Every burial at Foxfield is unique – like the individual lives that they honor. Yesterday’s burial was no exception.
The bitter winter winds died down, and the clouds rolled back to reveal bright blue sky. Sun bounced off the snow, sending glittering light everywhere. After a lovely and personal committal ceremony, the family picked up shovels to begin closing the grave and began singing a few songs together that their mother had enjoyed.
As the gentle melodies drifted off over the prairie, I raised my eyes to a flutter of blue wings. Six to 8 curious little bluebirds had been drawn by the quiet song, and were hopping closer and closer to investigate. A quiet memory spoken – that mom loved bluebirds – stunned the attendees into silent reflection, as the mourners and birds quietly observed each other.
It felt to all in attendance as though Nature – or God, or the Divine – was smiling at us. It was as though these small winged messengers had chosen this moment to appear to bring them some peace and assurance in their darkest moments of grief. Knowing their mother would rest in a place filled with life, and that the molecules in her body would become a part of that life, will doubtless bring a small comfort in the coming days and years.