I went to a funeral last Sunday for a woman I have known for a decade or so. She was always pleasant, always committed, always the organized person most of us would want to be. Her funeral was a surprise event for us all. But there was a bigger surprise for me. One of her sons stood up to speak about her, and in speaking about her great mothering skills, he had to mention himself. He said that she alone is the reason he survived drug and alcohol addiction, rehab, and the pain. I did not see that story coming. Maybe no one saw it coming. And it occurred to me that this lady was actually larger in life than we gave her credit for.
This happens often, of course. We tend to look at people and presume we know their good work, their bad work, even their mark on the world. But I find we tend to miss their great work of life. Maybe they do, too. The great work is always lurking in the background. The great work lives in the world of secrets and confidentiality. The great work cannot afford to be high profile. We are awash in benchmarks for good, clean living, but when we leave this world our friends face the shock of the real gap we left. It is as if none of us really understood why that life was so valuable. It’s funny how hard it is to see at the time the real worth of someone who loves you. And it is difficult to understand that we may not ever know in this lifetime what was the real work of our own lifetime. Maybe heaven is a place we get let in on the secret.
