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Every Little Thing by April Jeppson

A friend of mine passed away a few weeks ago, and her funeral is on Saturday. This experience has me thinking a lot about life and death lately. People will do or say things that I may not have otherwise noticed, but now it stands out. Small little hugs from my children are sweeter. Time spent with friends and family means more.

I was at the Senior Center the other day, and a lady came up to introduce herself to me. She then, with absolute joy in her eyes, told me how happy she and her friends were to be back. That we were able to open the center up and start activities again. She then looked me straight in the eyes and said, “We’ve been waiting for you, and we’re so happy you’re finally here.”

I obviously love hearing good things about the work I do. But there was something different about the way she expressed her gratitude. The part about her waiting for me — and that look in her eyes. I instantly thought about heaven and one of my favorite poems about death and the hereafter.

I read this poem, by Henry Van Dyke, at my grandmother’s funeral a few years ago. The first time I heard it, I thought, “Yes! This is it. This is what is happening.” It gave me such tremendous comfort that someone else had so beautifully put my thoughts into paper. 

Gone From My Sight

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,

spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts

for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.

I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck

of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

  

Then, someone at my side says, “There, she is gone.”

  

Gone where?

  

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,

hull and spar as she was when she left my side.

And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me — not in her.

And, just at the moment when someone says, “There, she is gone,”

there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices

ready to take up the glad shout, “Here she comes!”

  

And that is dying…

I miss my friend dearly. She was funny, kind and gave the best compliments. It hurts not seeing her at church. It hurts even more seeing her husband and knowing his loss is so much greater than mine. 

I find comfort in knowing that this is not the end. That her ship is simply out of sight for us. She is still very much the same funny and kind friend I remember. Even though she is gone from us, there was a welcoming party eagerly waiting her arrival. There was someone there with absolute joy in their eyes saying, “We’ve been waiting for you, and we’re so happy you’re finally here.”

Albert Lean April Jeppson is a wife, mom, coach and encourager of dreams. Her column appears every Saturday.