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Sparkle (8)
As a pastor’s family, we are often given the honor of being involved in the different passages of life that affect various members of our congregation.
Ten days ago, one of those passages came in the form of a memorial service for a church member’s daughter, Allison, who died of brain cancer at the age of forty-seven. She left behind a daughter in her teens and a son in his twenties.
We’ve been to numerous funerals and memorial services in our almost thirty years of ministry but this one will stand out in our hearts as being one of the most meaningful. (The following pictures are being shared with the family’s permission.)
After a church service that was packed to the walls and resonate with robust singing (Allison had requested a non-somber funeral), we went with Allison’s family and a few friends to a nearby beach for the scattering of Allison’s ashes.
Allison was an avid horsewoman and the family had arranged for one of her best friends to carry her ashes along the beach on horseback.
Steve and another pastor read Scripture and prayed...
...while Allison’s friend and Allison’s ashes kept watch. 
And then at the place where Allison had spent so many contented hours, her ashes were scattered...
...and her memories were gathered.
Having accomplished her loving, lonely task, her friend turned her horse and rode away--but this time, without Allison.
Then it was time for family and friends to walk to the edge of the water and lay their roses down with the ashes.
A certain beloved (and weeping) cancer warrior joined them.
After Sarah had completed her sad and beautiful task, she walked over to stand near me. As she and I glimpsed each other’s tears, we both came to the realization that we were not just there as a mother and a daughter; instead, we were present in that moment as two cancer sisters who’d come to the sea to honor a third sister, whose beautiful life was cut short by an enemy that each one of us had done battle with.
Sarah and I stood and embraced for a long time, crying and praying and remembering. The cleansing air, the grief on the wind, the eternal waves—it was a moment she and I will not soon forget.
My tears continued as I saw Allison’s son say his final good bye. As I looked at him I imagined my own dear Nathan—so near his age—and I could only imagine what his feelings would be if breast cancer had taken me the way brain
