Bolivar Funeral Home

At the Bolivar Funeral Home.
The wake is filled with family and friends. So many broken hearts, so many falling tears.

A mother, sister, teacher, friend.
Has fallen well before her years.

I vividly remember the pastor saying.

"Although this is a saddened day, dread not, she’s in a better place.

Let us mourn this day, but tomorrow let us celebrate her life. It may feel now as if things are chaotic and out of order.

You may want to sing that old bitter mantra that this is just not right. But I want you to know, that God is still in control of our lives".

That’s when it happened.
A little girl’s loud cries.
It was Lisa. It was her only child.

She ran to the casket yelling. “Don’t leave me momma. I’ll be good. I’ll eat all of my vegetables, even clean up my room.

Don’t leave momma, I’ll be your good little girl. Get up, let’s go home. Please, don’t leave me alone.”

Even the pastor was taken aback.
I could swear I heard the whispers beneath his breath.

Questioning thy Lord himself.