The Lesson of the Butterfly

In my opinion, graduation and prom pictures should not be allowed at funerals. The collage of images more fitting for a yearbook page is drastically out of place next the sign in book at a memorial service. A church filled to overflowing with young, tearstained faces just feels wrong in so many ways. However, I do not decide such things. God does not consult me with the concerns of the inexplicable, and I believe that is a good thing. Yet, I still find myself angered when death steals the life of one so young and full of promise. Watching my son and his friends wrestle with this idea is not easy, because I cannot fix it. All moms want to heal the boo boos of life for our children…only mine is no longer a child. I watch from the sidelines, and wish it was a simple as a kiss and a Band-Aid like it used to be…simple, not complex situations of adulthood that come without any answers.
The process of grieving finds anger close to the surface, and right under it is an ocean of tears. The emotions are exhausting, and friends find comfort in riding the roller coaster together. The service was moving with stories and songs about a girl who loved life. References to butterflies were numerous both due to the fact we were in Resurrection Episcopal Church, and that we fully believe it is true that Chelsea is dancing with Christ even now. While images of butterflies represent the resurrection we find in Christ, they also remind us of how delicate and fragile life is…not something that will be soon forgotten on this day. It is a reminder to love completely and never take your friendships for granted.

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One thought on “The Lesson of the Butterfly

  1. We all live in the past, because there is nothing else to live in. To live in the present is like proposing to sit on a pin. It is too minute, it is too slight a support, it is too uncomfortable a posture, and it is of necessity followed by a totally different experiences, analogous to those of jumping up with a yell,(Chesterton)

    One must wait until the evening to see how splendid the day was, one can not judge life until death. (De Galle)

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