The Blue Canopy

The Blue Canopy

Cars and trucks raced by us.  The speed limit was only a guideline on this busy Saturday a week and a half away from Christmas.  I could imagine lists being read as each automobile made its way toward its destination.  Only a little time to get it all done.

We were stopped by a red light at a very busy intersection.  A few scooted through the yellow light.  I usually do that, too.  However, people had on their serious faces.  They were out with a purpose, and I didn't want to get caught in their way halfway under that yellow light.  Better to wait my real turn.

While we were waiting for the light to change, I noticed all the different businesses.  Some had panel trucks setting in the lot.  One had small semis parked beside the side door.  No business at that intersection had any Christmas decorations.  On the outside anyway.  It was business as usual for them.

Looking to my left I saw a cemetery.  That was not unusual.  Cemeteries dot the landscape in most cities.  What caught my attention was the blue top of a canopy.  Once I saw that, I knew that one family was not thinking about traffic or decorations.  That family was grieving.

In the midst of all the motion of life, life had ceased for someone.  A stranger I will never know.  That group of mourners were thinking about other things. Perhaps they were talking about the service that honored their person.  Maybe they were thinking quiet thoughts about memories shared. Or maybe they were wiping away tears as they made their way to the cemetery.  With cars hurrying by, those folks would stand beside the gravesite and say their last goodbyes.

When I was younger, I didn't understand why the whole world didn't stop when someone I loved died. How could those people be so uncaring?  It simply seemed wrong to my young brain.  Things should stop.  Everyone should be quiet and respectful.  Those are the things I thought when I was much younger.

A little side story-When I was a college student, the local funeral home hired me to sing at funerals.  Mostly I sang at those services when the family needed someone.  Someone from the funeral home would drive to the college and get me.  I would walk into the room and take my place behind a wall of flowers and plants out of view of the family or those attending.  I would usually sing two songs and then exit the room.  I would be taken back to college to resume my day.

I never stayed for the service.  Except one time.  I was called to sing a song for a woman who had been in prison.  It was obvious there were only a few people attending.  That time I stayed out of respect for the woman who had few people to mourn her passing.  That particular funeral made a  lasting impression on me.

Over the years I have sung at many funerals.  Some for friends, some for students, some for family.  After so many years of doing this, you would think it would be easy.  The truth is it never is easy.

Back to Saturday.

The light finally changed, and we continued our journey.  Yet that blue canopy is still in my mind.  I can see it clearly.  It told the rest of the world that someone had left.  Someone's journey had come to an end.  Someone knows what I have yet to know.  It made me think.

Time is precious.   Time is such a gift.  We think we have tons of it.  And maybe some of us do.  We should cherish it.  We should guard how we use it.  We should make the most of it.  We simply do not know how many ticks on the clock of time we have.  We must not allow ourselves to believe that we can put off what needs to be said or done because we believe we have time to do it at a later date.  If something needs to be said, say it.  If someone needs to know how much they mean to us, tell them.  If we need to apologize, do it.  If someone's name comes to our mind, seek them out.

The people who would be standing beneath that blue canopy gave me a gift.  They reminded me that time does not stand still.  It continues.  And while I still have time, I must celebrate it.  For one day it will end.