After my Grandpa’s memorial service, we all crowded into my Grandma’s condo, family spilling out the back patio and the front entrance. Many of the faces there I hadn’t seen in months or years. A few people I had never met before. Kids ran around; adults ate and talked and drank and laughed loudly. More than one person commented on how it was like an Irish “wake” (except that we weren’t Irish or Catholic).
A common bond ran throughout the house. I found myself deeply engaged in conversation, drinking in everything I could learn of my Grandpa and the people he loved. I asked his sisters, “What was he like as a brother? What was it like when he brought Grandma home for the first time?” I looked at old photographs and laughed at the stories my aunts and uncles told. But it wasn’t just learning about Grandpa. I desperately needed to learn all I could about this family while everyone was there. I listened to my younger cousins talk about high school, my older cousins talk about their careers, marriage (or future marriages!) and kids. It was bittersweet. In a couple of hours, the house emptied. Some of those people I might never see again. Many I won’t see for months and years.
There is an extraordinary thing about family. Family can cause us to care about people deeply despite how well we know them. People who would be normally regarded as complete strangers are suddenly considered friends–simply due to birth. And family causes us to accept and love people with whom we are very acquainted–warts and all.
By no means am I saying my family is perfect. But this occasion gave me a small glimpse of something beautiful.
Have you ever wondered what Heaven will be like? Will we all recognize our loved ones? Will we all instantly know people we had never met (like Peter recognizing Moses and Elijah?) or will we need to ask their names? I can’t give answers, but I wonder.
I wonder if it might be like our “Irish wake.”
Finding Love in Wonton Soup 