We Went to a Wake Tonight for a Man We Don’t Even Know

Last Saturday on the way home from work Fred along with Andrew, Peter, John-Paul and Matthew encountered a fatal accident on the highway. They were the first on the scene.

I spent the next several days wading through that mysterious world of men’s emotions. There hasn’t been a lot of talking about what happened, but I know full well it can be difficult to process and takes time. Initially Fred seemed angry, though I wasn’t sure of why or at who. Eventually it seemed to give way to sadness and some questions. By the third night Fred admitted to me that for the last 40 years of his life he has always wondered what he would do if he ever came across an accident like the one he did on Saturday afternoon. He says he had played it over and over in his mind asking God to give him the courage to walk over instead of leave and to pray with the victim. He asked me what I thought of that. I told him I had never once imagined such a scenario myself and that it struck me that perhaps there was a reason he had pictured it so many times before. He grew quiet and the conversation ended.

He didn’t seem to want to talk much more about it and so we didn’t. But the faraway look that haunted his eyes and the computer search for obituaries told me where his thoughts were at more than once.

This afternoon he called announcing he would like to go to the wake. I thought this was a good idea. Then the phone rang again -did I want to go too? “Just 30 seconds” That’s all he would need he assured me. As if I had some other place to be then by his side. We pulled up to the parking lot of the funeral home, it was crowded. We worked our way through the crowd to the door. A line formed of about 300 to 400 people. Five rooms were filled for a well loved man. 

Assessing the situation Fred turned and said we should go right to the front. He merely wanted to say a few words and keep on going. “30 seconds is all Elle” came the words once again. He made his way to the front. And now we could see the family. A wife, a daughter, a son-in-law, some grandchildren. I pointed to the son-in-law and whispered “try to speak to him.” Fred stepped forward and began to explain. He whispered and then the man turned to his wife and spoke to her. Her strong and steady tone grew quiet as she reached for Freddy’s hand. Her eyes locking on his face to take him in. Questions rose and words spilled out.
Let’s not tell Mom yet she is not strong enough.
Could we have your phone number?
Of course.Anything we can do. We’ll leave it up front. 

And then Fred turned to say goodbye. And this daughter reached out to grasp his hand. And I heard her try to say ‘Thank you Fred for coming tonight’, but what came out instead was a gentle moan as her heart broke and she pulled him in and crumbled in my husband’s arms. The room grew still as two hundred pairs of eyes grew fixed on this embrace. A flood of tears poured out and seemed to echo through the room.

And Fred who wanted nothing more than to leave, did not. He stayed and held a perfect stranger in his arms to let her cry. He comforted her and told her it would be okay. He said her Dad did not suffer any pain. He told her that he held his hand and prayed and stayed with him until till he was gone. He told her he was peaceful as he went.

As we walked away her fingers lingered on his hands. Not wanting to let go of the man who had last been with her father. Wishing she could pull from Fred the grasp that held her father’s last. 

I do not know why God chooses what He does. I do not understand the details of his plans. But I do know our lives are not our own. We belong to one another in a way we don’t even realize most days until of course, we are forced to. And inexplicable as it seems, I believe God wanted my family to be touched in this man’s death as all those other hundreds had been touched in his life.