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Au t u m n’s
Gr a n dpa M i k e
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enough for that another day. For now, I simply wanted to be there
for my friend, so I asked if there was anything I could do.
The viewing was Friday night. I’ve done my share of funer-
als, having worked as a hospital chaplain, so I am not a stranger
to death. But there is simply something “wrong” with seeing a
twenty-nine-day-old baby girl in a funeral chapel. My mind
didn’t want to accept the reality before me. I held Mike and we
cried together.
The funeral was the next morning. The congregation of
Mike’s church was there for him. His pastor did a masterful job.
I don’t believe I could have made it through such an experi-
ence. I simply can’t control my tears well enough. They took the
tiny cradle out of the church and whisked it away in a hearse.
Words failed me.
That night I made up a card for Mike. I inserted some pic-
tures I had obtained of Autumn from a memorial Mike put on
the Internet for her. Accompanied by my seven-year-old daugh-
ter, Summer Marie, I went over to Mike’s house to deliver the
card. After spending some time in the house, we went outside.
As I was getting ready to leave, I gave Mike a hug. There was
a moment of silence, and then Summer threw her arms open
wide and said, “My turn!” As Mike knelt down to receive from
Summer the greatest gift she could give him, I thought about
how wonderful it is that God puts others in our lives.
And so begins a process in Mike’s life. The viewing and
the funeral are just the beginning. The process of grieving has
now begun. It will not be an orderly process. It will oftentimes
call him into the darkest alleys of emotional pain, and at times
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