Farewell Bonnie

Three Sundays ago at the beginning of church our pastor added a name to our prayer list. When a name is added it means that this addition just came up in the last two or three days as the other prayer concerns are printed in our bulletin.

“Please add Bonnie Derr to the prayer concerns. She was just diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer.” A ripple of shock swept over the congregation. Bonnie has been a member of our church along with her husband Dailey for 50 years. She has served in every possible way and was beloved.

I did what you are not supposed to do in church, but I googled stage 4 lung cancer. Not good. Four months seemed to be like a reasonable amount of time to have with it. Bonnie only made it two weeks.

As a member of the funeral committee I got the news on the early side. So sad. She was a couple months shy of her 80th birthday, but I would have guessed she was younger to look at, but older by her life’s accomplishments.

So I went to church twice today. Once for regular church and once for Bonnie’s funeral.

I am not always able to go to funerals or memorials. So I often pray for others who have passed away at other people’s services. I figure no one knows when I silently add a name or think of who else these friends will be meeting in heaven’s waiting room. Nancy Dougherty passed away last month and she was only 74. John Cadigan was taken last month at only 62. I couldn’t go to either of their services, so I prayed for them today along with Bonnie.

None of us knows how long we have. We may have a long goodbye or a sudden departure. Try and be good with those you care about because there may not be time to tell them how you feel.

Let people know what your final wishes are. It is so much easier for the family if they have a script to follow. I often take note of music I like. One thing I said to my friend David Anderson who sat next to me at the funeral is, “I want Jim Ketch to live forever so he can play the trumpet at my service.” David said, “Me too.” So Jim, keep practicing, I need you around for another twenty five years. Trumpeters can play until 100 I hope.