My husband and I entered the tiny quaint chapel and found a seat. It was the loveliest little chapel I believe I have ever seen. The interior was unfinished wood with impressive beams and through the beautiful windows, I could see the tall evergreens reaching toward the sky as the rain glistened on their needles. The evening was upon us and the organist began to play. As the bride entered the chapel, we rose.
Her gown was deep burgundy velvet and her silver hair was draped in dainty lace. Escorted by her groom, her eyes were bright and her smile beamed with anticipation and hope. She was a vision of beauty.
My friendship began with her three years prior. Her eyes were not so bright then, nor did she smile. Her husband had just passed and I was her mortician. She was a capable woman who was confident in who she was, but she had just been widowed. The confusion and uncertainty of losing her husband were not cause for celebration. She was determined though. She fought to liberate herself from the pain and fear of grief.
Her courtship with her intended was wonderful to witness. He had lost his wife a short time prior to her loss. Together, they were able to support each other and help themselves through the pain and anguish they suffered. Their wedding mirrored the care they had given each other. His love and concern for her were evident in every detail of the ceremonies. Her sweet love for him beamed through her countenance.
As the evening progressed, I could see in his eyes, and hers, those moments of reflection when each remembered their first marriages. Tears would fill his eyes and she would gently comfort them away. In turn, with tender embrace, he would kiss her forehead, and caress her hair until her composure returned. Their kindness and respect for each other were beautiful, and the honor reserved in their hearts for their departed spouses was gentle and holy.
I am happy for my friend. She has found joy in her life again. She has discovered the key to preserving her former love while moving forward and sharing her life with a new man of honor.
As I turned to see her enter the chapel, I beheld her beauty beside her intended. Her face filled with hope and anticipation for her future. As I watched her leave the reception, I beheld her new life beside her husband. Their union of two left no room for a third. Grief, their former companion was lost, and happiness filled its stead.
My name is Tracy Renee Lee. I am the owner and Managing Funeral Director of Queen City Funeral Home in Queen City, Texas. I am an author, syndicated columnist, and Certified Grief Counselor. I write books, weekly bereavement articles, and grief briefs related to understanding and coping with grief. I am the American Funeral Director of the Year Runner-Up and recipient of the BBB’s Integrity Award. I deliver powerful messages and motivate audiences toward positive recovery.
It is my life’s work to comfort the bereaved and help them live on.
For additional encouragement, read other articles or watch video “Grief Briefs,” please go to my website at www.MourningCoffee.com.