Expressions of Love

I had the opportunity this morning to take Mom to the store so she could buy ingredients to make a salad for a funeral meal tomorrow. I don't know if the tradition of providing food to the bereaved is particular to certain parts of the country or if it's honored everywhere, but it's such a visible sign of love!

When I grew up on the farm, it was everyone's habit to make sure they had supplies on hand to throw together a meal at short notice......whether it was for unexpected company or for a family who lost a loved one. I've written before about our living twenty miles from town and only shopping once a week. Imagine, now, the dead of winter. Everyone made sure they were well stocked with groceries in case of a prolonged snow or ice storm, in the event you couldn't get anywhere for awhile. A well-stocked pantry was the norm.

As soon as news of a death scattered throughout the neighborhood, food was being made. We didn't wait until the day of the funeral – there was often a hot meal waiting on the table when the family returned from making arrangements at the funeral home. No one locked their doors, so there was easy access to the kitchens.

When I was a child, the families would often gather at the home of the surviving spouse or the oldest child during the days before the funeral service. I remember so well when my grandfather passed away and we were all gathering at my uncle's house. For those days, we spent very little time at home – Mom and Dad would run home in the evening just long enough to milk the cow. At 13, I was old enough to be left at my uncle's house – my 14-year-old cousin and I spent a lot of quality time those days with his one-year-old niece.

As other relatives came for visitation at the funeral home or the funeral, more and more food arrived. My aunt's good friend and neighbor was there to help serve the food and wash up the dishes so the family didn't have to deal with it much. I remember so clearly her cutting her hand on a broken glass the day of the funeral.

Three months later, when we lost my other grandfather, the gathering was at our house. There weren't as many family members involved, so Mom and I were able to handle the serving and cleaning. But, oh! the food – and everyone sends their best dishes. I think it really did help us get over that feeling of “I don't really want to eat”.

I'm not sure if as much food is taken to the homes these days. Generally a more organized meal will be served to the family before or after the funeral services. Churches often have a committee of ladies who handle organizing the meal and contacting people for their contributions. All in all, it's probably easier on everyone to have the meal at a church or community building rather than in the home.

It was such a different world when I was a kid – word would spread throughout a community quickly, even though many people didn't have a phone yet. Everyone was ready and willing to pitch in during times of difficulty. Houses weren't locked, so neighbors could always go in and help out. Sometimes I wonder if the world has really changed so much – or if I changed due to moving around so much during my early adult life and not making any close ties with the communities where I lived.