Lies we tell ourselves

It’s funny…not funny haha…funny curious. It’s funny to see the lies people tell themselves in order to deal with unfathomable pain.

Today (technically yesterday) we buried a man I’ve known all my life. A man I loved and admired. A man that was successful in life on many fronts.

Today I saw people I haven’t seem in years. Guys I used to spend five days and nights out of each week with. Guys I laughed with, worked with, spent every day with for several years of my life. Guys I know pretty well. I know their wives and kids and even a little about some grand kids. We all have one thing in common. That common denominator was the man we buried today.

Some of the people I saw today know real hope. They know about what is in the here after. They know what awaits them. Some of the people I saw know no hope. They know no peace. They can only guess about the here after.

One man in particular had a difficult job. See he was the minister, he is supposed to guide everyone through their grief to a point where we were ready to let go for the last time. But how do you give hope when there seems to be none.

The man we buried, he talked about god a lot. But it was (as far as I can remember) always followed by an expletive. He wasn’t a spiritual man…unless you consider coffee in the mornings communion. He was a loving man for sure. I watched him play with kids, laugh till his belly hurt at the things they would do, and I even saw him open his wallet and give a boy a dollar because “if a boy has a wallet he ought to have some walking around money”. He had many admirable qualities. But I’m not sure of the condition of his soul.

No one wants to stand in a pulpit and tell the grieving family that their loved one has perished an eternal death. No one wants to say there is no hope for them. So we lie.

We remember things in a skewed way. We recall memories that never happened. Our minds paint a picture of altered reality so that we don’t lose our sanity to grief. We talk about how much people loved The Lord, even though you probably couldn’t find a bible in their own house. We remember the good things about the person. In the absence of those things…we manufacture the good things.

It just hurts too much to face the dark truth of eternal damnation.

May we always live so that no one has to lie at our funeral.

I loved my uncle. An amazing story teller, hard worker, shrewd businessman, and a fun guy to be around. He will be missed.

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