November 1 is All Saints’ Day. It comes the day after Halloween. In the liturgical church tradition it is celebrated the Sunday following Halloween – so this coming Sunday, November 6.
In churches that celebrate All Saints’ Day, the names of those who have died in the past year are read aloud during the communion liturgy. Well, at least that’s when they are read at my church. After each name is read a chime is rung. It’s a powerful moment – not just for the family of those whose relative died, but for the whole community. It’s important to remember and give thanks – not just the day of their funeral – but for many days and years to come. I will miss that moment at my church this Sunday.
This morning I’m thinking about the saints in my life – the ones I miss dearly during this season of my life. I wish Grandma and Grandpa Augspurger were still here. And Katy too.
Grandma would hug me and maybe cry with me. Her soft cheeks – oh, her cheeks were so soft – would remind me of love, pure love. She would prepare a meal for me because that was her way of showing love.
Grandpa would hug me so tight – tight enough that it would hurt just a little. Then he would hold my hand and pat it. I would sit next to him on the couch and just settle into his chest – resting my head on his cardigan and letting his arm wrap around me. No words would need to be spoken. Just being together would be enough.
Katy would share words of comfort. She would remind me of all the good in my life and share the promise that more good is to come.
None of them are with me, in body, today. But I will think of them. I will remember them – these saints, not because of their perfection, but because of their humanity. I will hold their comforts, each in their own way, close to my heart.
I just wish they were here to hold me, really hold me, because today that’s all I need.