memorial service

December 18, 2006

last week, i saw a flyer for a memorial service at chapel ridge funeral home. the flyer caught my eye. it was intended for people who've lost someone and find it difficult to celebrate during the christmas holidays. though i didn't find it difficult to celebrate during the holidays, i did lose eric and in light of the counseling i've been receiving, i felt it would be a good thing to do.

i felt that i would be able to emotionally release some of the feelings that have been stored up in me for the past three years. but i was also really scared too. chapel ridge was the place we held eric's funeral. i hadn't stepped foot on the property since that day. i didn't know how i would react. i didn't know what i would think. i didn't know what i would feel. but despite my feelings, i still felt i needed to go.

over the weekend, i looked forward to going and also sacred out of my wits to going. i didn't know what to expect.

tonight was the service. i've been thinking about it all day. after work, i went straight to ann's house. i could feel the nervousness, anxiety and fear rise within me. my heart felt really vulnerable, very open, very susceptible to being wounded. i felt messy inside. i didn't know what to think or feel. i asked ann to drive because i wasn't sure how i'd respond to everything.

when we pulled into the parking lot, it seemed so surreal. i really was back at the same place. it was far too familiar. the car that holds the casket was parked out front. i remembered pulling into the parking lot the day of eric's funeral. i remembered moving his casket into the lead funeral car after the service. in that moment, i really started missing eric. i sat in ann's car, almost paralyzed. i wanted to go inside but i couldn't. i started feeling emotions rise within me and rather than suppress them, i allowed them to surface. i told ann, "let's go" but i couldn't move. tears started welling up in my eyes. i couldn't believe eric was really gone. i couldn't believe it's already been three years without him. it felt so surreal, like a really bad dream. after some time, i mustered up enough courage to walk inside.

everything was exactly how i remembered it. i remembered the entire layout of the place. they were holding the memorial service in the exact same room as eric's funeral. how ironic. but, i don't think that was a coincidence. over the weekend, i realized there were some things that i always wanted to do when i was at eric's funeral but never did. the first thing was cry. i didn't shed one single tear that day. neither did my mom. after eric passed away, i felt very numb for a few weeks. people told me "i was strong" on the day of his funeral. they told me i needed to be strong for my family. i did want to be strong for them. some people told my mom and i that it looked like we were the ones giving comfort to other people, when they should have been giving comfort to us. as i reflect upon that, i wonder. did people associate being "strong" with a person who does not cry? did i simply suppress all my emotions that day so i could "be strong"? i had a feeling that i would cry in the memorial service. i'm glad that it was in the same room even though it was really hard to be back there. the second thing was to really mourn for eric. on the day of his funeral, many people paid their proper respects to him. they looked at him while he lay in the casket. many of them were weeping, some even wailing. i was afraid to look at him for too long. i couldn't bring myself to do it. i've regretted that decision. i wish i did. i wish i had looked at him more, but it was too painful for me at the time. i wasn't ready to deal with everything yet.

we approached the people at the table. i thought everyone was signing a guest registry of some sort. i was shocked when the lady asked me "what's the name of the person you want to remember?" my heart sank. i could feel pain rise up in my heart. "eric chan" i replied. everyone would get an opportunity to light an unlit candle at the front of the room to symbolize remembering whomever they said. saying "eric chan" to the lady made me feel really sad. i was being hit with a dose of reality—a reality that i have a hard time dealing with. in my heart, i don't want to admit eric's gone. sometimes i wish he would come back. sometimes i wish i'd wake up from this bad dream. having to say eric's name to the lady made me encounter the reality of never seeing him again on earth. that hurt—a lot.

ann and i walked in and sat close to the back of the room. again, it was far too familiar. i could remember what the room looked like during eric's funeral. my parents and i sat at the front, jer was on my left. there were tons of flowers at the front, the big ones that chinese people give. his casket was open at the front of the room. there was a podium to the right where we spoke, where i delivered the eulogy, where my dad sang, where my mom gave the words of thanks. at the back of the room, we had a big picture of eric and some other pictures with him. i remembered the doors that exited the room, the ones we went through as the pallbearers, carrying the casket out of the room into the lead car. all these images and memories rushed into my heart and mind. and it hurt. it hurt bad. i could remember it all.

as i remembered, i thought about things i wanted to say to him that day, things i wanted to ask him. i thought about all the things i wanted to do with him but never had the chance to do. more tears started to well up. my heart ached to see him again, to touch him again, to hear him again, to talk with him again.

the service began. a man briefly welcomed us into the night and what would be happening. he talked about how sometimes, people prevent us from crying because they're uncomfortable when we do. thus, to prevent themselves from being uncomfortable, they do things to prevent us from crying. yet, crying is good for the soul. it's therapeutic. it sets us on the path of restoration. i thought about ann. she was nothing like that. she always was very supportive of me crying. i appreciated that so much about her. i've always felt safe with her. and i know it's not easy for her to see me bawling my eyes out. i know it's know easy for her to see me in so much pain. yet despite her feeling uncomfortable and feeling the hurt i feel, she still allows me to cry. and in fact, she encourages it.

the beginning of the service was focused heavily on Christ, coming to the world as the Light of the world. we read Scripture together, sang hymns together and did corporate readings. my soul was encouraged and i found hope in God. He's the One that sheds light into darkness. He's the One who brings life and light to us.

there was a "mini" message delivered by a pastor. he talked about how joy and sorrow needed to be done in community to be complete. i was really glad ann was there with me tonight. i knew i couldn't have done it on my own. i knew i couldn't have gone without her. she gave me the encouragement and the support i needed to go. i noticed how there were some people in the room by themselves. it must have been so hard for them to be there, to mourn the death of their loved one alone. i really felt the impact of the community. i was comforted in knowing there were others mourning. i felt less alone.

after the message, we moved to the time where people would walk to the front to light their unlit candles in remembrance of their loved one. that was really, really hard. they played music during this time too. the first song i heard was "i will remember you" by sarah mclachlan. eric loved sarah mclachlan. he always listened to her music in his room. i think i will remember you was one of his favourite songs. after some time, the lady said "eric chan." my heart sank. my whole body felt like it was going to collapse. to hear them say his name was an affirmation of reality: he was really gone. i think sometimes i don't want to admit he's gone in my heart. sometimes i want to push aside the truth. but, i can't. and whenever i hit the realization of what happened, it really hurts.

it was really hard to stand up. i felt intense emotions. i knew i was going to lose it right then and there, but i tried to hold myself together as i approached the front. i lit his candle from the big Christ candle in the middle and put his candle on the table. ann lit her candle to remember eric and put it beside mine. when i turned around to head back to my chair, i couldn't hold it in anymore. i didn't want to. i started weeping uncontrollably as i sat down. i was really glad ann was there for me. wave after wave of tears came. the pain felt so real in my heart. i missed him so bad. why did he have to go. why did he do it? didn't he understand how much pain this would have caused us? i know he went through a lot in his life, but still, i wish he was still with me.

after the lighting of the candles, there was some prayer and a benediction. i felt hopeful. i was glad that i could mourn for eric with ann. i was glad that the light of Christ sheds light into darkness. i was glad that the light of Christ shines so brightly. i was glad that the light of Christ dwelt in me. after that, i had some time in silent meditation and prayer. ann and i went to grab some refreshments before heading out. on the way out, i grabbed a flyer that caught my eye. it's a butterfly release event, held in july 2007. i'm definitely going to do that.

all in all, i'm really glad i went. i'm glad God helped me mourn for eric. i'm glad He helped me experience some of the emotions and some of the thoughts i've had for so long. i'm glad He gave me new memories of chapel ridge. prior to tonight, i'd always feel really sad whenever i drove past chapel ridge. the only memory i had of it was eric's funeral. when we left tonight, another memory was created. a more positive memory. i can now think back to the beautiful memorial service. i can think back to hope i have in Christ. i can think back to how loving, caring and supportive ann was for me. i can thank God for allowing me to take part in such a service and to remember eric.

Lord, thank you for giving me the strength and courage to take part of the memorial service. thank you for providing me such a loving and wonderful companion to support, care and love me. may You continue to lead me to mourn for eric. may You continue to lead me to release all the feelings and thoughts i've had for the past three years. may Your name be praised. amen.

Posted by Leo Chan at December 18, 2006 11:58 PM