Funerals and borscht
I went to a funeral yesterday, for a man that lived 100 years and was just months shy of getting to his 101st in July. Uncle Nick although I had only met him a few times over the course of 15 years, never failed to have a little sparkle that indicated that he knew a secret.
If you were willing to listen, he would share that secret with you.
He loved going to Hawaii. In fact, he went there 25 times in his life. That is a lot of love for one place. Uncle Nick would use his time to have fun with his family, but he would also spend some time evangelizing to the Hawaiian populace. I think that is pretty awesome. He wanted to share Jesus with anyone and everyone and did not take a vacation to get away from it all.
The funeral was a small affair. Outliving his peers, only a few remaining family members gathered to remember the man, his love of song and his sense of humor. What I remember about Nick mostly is from another funeral, a few years ago when his wife of 55 years, Lydia, passed away. He sat by her casket, shedding tears as they began to cover her face and he said,; “I’ll see you sweetie” and then got up from his chair as the pallbearers grabbed the casket.
A few minutes later, Uncle Nick, in his nineties then asked Serge, who was that woman? It was sweet. It was an innocent moment in time that I will remember always.
The borscht? After a Doukhobor funeral, the family gets together for a meal and the soup is borscht. Great tasting and it fills you right up. Lots of soup, lots of bread.Somehow, food and grief are always tied together, no matter what background. The Irish have their wakes and the Doukhobors have their borscht…