Memory Eternal; Vyechnaya Pamyat

While in the spacious courtyard waiting for George after the Retreat, I saw Elder Zacharias make his way across. There was a little scarfed girl, about 5 or 6, dancing around getting her wiggles out, as my daughter would say, oblivious of the Elder's linear path that was about to cut across her circular one. Right before a collision would have occurred, Elder Zacharias did a similar skipping dance in the other direction in perfect concert. What a joyful cherry on top at the end of the Retreat.

It took us two and a half hours to make our way from Dallas to Fort Worth to St. Barbara's because of several traffic jams, so instead of making a pit stop, we just went straight to Church and arrived barely in time for the baptism of sweet baby James. He is the second baby of a very dear couple who just moved to beautiful Tyler, world-famous for it's roses and azaleas, now that Zach has graduated from his doctorate program at UTArlington and has gotten a teaching position at the college there. They are attending the new Tyler Orthodox mission that John has helped start up.

Last week one of our founding members of St. Barbara's passed away suddenly from a stroke. Everyone knew him as a faithful and pious, impeccably dressed, older Russian-Iranian-American gentleman who always removed his hat and knelt on his knees when he venerated the icons and after confession. After Great Vespers which followed the baptism, the funeral home brought him to the Church to lie in repose through the night, through Divine Liturgy the next morning, until his funeral there at 4pm Sunday afternoon. None of us were prepared to see George with his hat removed, but laying with him in the casket, enter the church horizontally instead of on his knees. We barely made it through the Panachida prayer service with him in our midst. Even Father had to restart several of the prayers. It felt very natural to bow in front of his casket and kiss the cross laid on his chest, his hands and forehead which looked like they always did, just asleep. I was very moved when one of our members knelt in front of his casket just as George always had done in front of the icons. We were all very quiet on the way home.

I sometimes feel that I am teetering on the edge of abandoning myself totally to mourning what I have lost. George's soul-separated body sent me irretrievably over that edge Sunday morning starting on the drive to Church. I could hardly stop crying all through the Liturgy, so I opted to stand in the back with my husband George instead of singing in the choir. I pray I didn't make too much of a self-centered spectacle of myself, but it seemed the departed George's beautiful sister, Ilena, didn't mind having the company of a fellow-weeper. It was so appropriate to have him in the middle of the Church in front of the line, which in his earthly life he always lead, to Communion. I pray he be granted rest in Christ, and that he pray for our Church while we await the final resurrection of our ever weakening bodies.