November 12th

 I woke up yesterday morning and noticed it was November 12^th.

At first, I didn’t realize the significance of the date,

But then I remembered:

November 12^th is the anniversary of the day that my friend and mentor, Kay Simpson, died.

 

I went to church with my band that morning in 2006.

We were warming up and preparing to lead worship when

We looked up and saw Kay at the back of the church.

Kay had been sick for a few days,

So we were surprised to see her.

She slowly made her way down the aisle and sat on the front pew,

Listening to us play all along.

She closed her eyes,

Held her hands in a receiving position,

And sat for a few moments taking it all in.

When it came time for her to leave,

We asked if she needed someone to take or follow her home.

She declined the invitation,

Said she’d be fine,

And quietly left before anyone else could arrive at church.

 

That was the last time anyone saw Kay.

She died that night.

Her enlarged heart had enlarged so much that

It finally gave out.

 

The days, weeks, and years following Kay’s death were hard on me.

The sights, smells, and memories often overwhelmed me

And left me feeling such a deep grief that I couldn’t function.

Yet now, 17 years later, while I still feel the sting of her loss and

Still remember sights, smells, and memories just like they were yesterday,

I am finally okay.

 

Grief is an odd thing.

It comes and goes on its own terms

And sometimes it leaves us flat on our backs in tears.

But sometimes, it’s just a tiny whisper about the date—

Telling us that there is something for us to remember—

Someone for whom we should stop and be grateful.

 

I am thankful for grief’s gentle nudge yesterday.

And I am grateful for Kay Simpson

And the impact that she had on my life as a minister and friend.

Amen.