More random thoughts on my journey following the death of my wife, Renee.

Did you hear about the guy who, a few days ago, stole an airplane in Tupelo, Mississippi, and flew around the area, threatening to crash it into the local Wal-Mart? Crazy, huh? The TV news showed video of the plane flying erratically all around the area. Fortunately, the story's ending was not tragic. He finally landed the plane in a field and was taken into custody where he faces many State and Federal charges.

But while he was in the air, there was fear on the ground, and understandably so. In fact, I will admit that I found myself doing some calculations in my mind as to the likelihood of this lunatic being able to fly as far south as Mandeville. Crazy, huh?

Maybe. Or maybe the truth is that such thinking would have been crazy in the "old days", i.e., the days before 9-11, the days before Covid when everything went off the rails, the days before this year which has been so filled with tragedy and loss in my family. But now? Maybe I can get a pass for such thinking, and for even going outside to look at the sky when I heard the sound of an airplane flying by.

And maybe the people of Tupelo can be given a pass for the fear that ensued there. In an AP article about this incident, there was a quote from a former Mississippi State Representative, now turned Funeral Director, who said he fielded calls from panic-stricken people. He said that one woman called to ask if the funeral for her Mother should be canceled. His response: "No; life's going to go on."

A Funeral Director - refusing to cancel a funeral - because "life's going to go on." People, I am not making this up.

I was thinking the other day that, of all the kids who had some kind of connection to the Church Youth Group where I grew up, my brother Mack, who died a couple of weeks ago, was the first to die. His birthday was just a couple of days ago - he would have been a wonderfully young 63.

But then, I realized that Renee died 7 months, almost to the day, before Mack. So she must have been the first. Wow. I hate it that she is the first on that list.

It didn't take me long to realize that I was wrong once again. Neither Mack nor Renee were the first on that list. I had forgotten Mickey; I had forgotten Jerry; I had forgotten Steve; I had forgotten Jay; I had forgotten Sheryl. Each of these, though a little older than me, had been in the Youth Group at our church. I had also forgotten Neal, who was a little younger than me. I have specific, beautiful memories of each of them from those days. They all left behind spouses and families. They also left behind siblings from our Youth Group, so I'm not the first on that list either.

Well, perhaps I was the first from our Youth Group to lose a spouse? No. There's Greg, Cathy, Dwayne, Peggy, Kathy, my sister. And maybe more. I have lost touch with many, actually most of the kids from those days. Probably more of the kids from my Youth Group are already on one of these lists.

That is a lot of death; that is a lot of grief to be poured out on one relatively small Youth Group in the swift years that have passed since those days - those wonderful days of energy and strength and joy, of unwrinkled skin and light hearts, of eager anticipation of the wonders life had in store for us, and perhaps even of the belief that only wonderful things would be our lot. At least, it never occurred to me back then that my future would be anything other than merry and bright.

How foolish of me. I wonder if the other sufferers from my Youth Group went out into the world with such thoughts? I wonder if the time spent together back then did anything to prepare me and my friends for our journeys of grief in this life, or for our journeys to the next life? I think so, at least on some level. I know the information was not withheld from us.

For those of us who are left, are we really left with only the "wisdom" of a Mississippi Funeral Director - "... life's going to go on"? We get that. But what is that "life" supposed to look like? What does it mean to "go on''? Is it just eat, work, sleep, repeat, with the occasional "that was fun", or "that was scary", or "that was different" moment randomly thrown in just to keep us on our toes? "Is there no balm in Gilead?" [Jer. 8:22]. So many questions.

Well, as I've said all along, it's a journey. Apparently, it's not a straight line journey - at least it's not for me. In a way, it's comforting to know that I have not been singled out for grief. But even more, it's incredibly sad to know that I'm not alone on this journey, that I am walking the same path with childhood friends - friends whose smiling, cheerful, happy faces I can still see in my mind.

Maybe "life's going to go on" means we will all smile again someday. I hope so.

Ambrose Ramsey | Pastor and Shepherd