Bricks and Flowers

We recently attended the funeral, associated ceremonies and rituals for Jennifer’s dad. Lee and I didn’t have a close relationship, so I didn’t have memories to reflect upon with the family. Aside from being there for emotional support, I found myself with some time on my hands. If you know me, then you know my mind has a tendency to wander far and wide when I have time on my hands. It’s not uncommon to hear “ooh… here’s a thought” from me at those times. So during the four days between Lee’s death and the funeral service, I spent a lot of time with a smart phone and watching rug rats so folks could visit.

My first mental road trip came while watching the kiddos play at the visitation. The visitation was held at Kinney-Underwood Funeral Home in Stamford, Texas. A town of roughly 3,600 residents, I would say Stamford is the quintessential small Texas town. Not a lot of glitz and glamour, and a much slower pace of life. You can’t help but take things in and enjoy the view, even on such on occasion. We parked in the mostly gravel parking lot just to the south of St. John’s Methodist Church across the street. The parking lot lies directly between the church and a playground. You can probably imagine where the kids instantly wanted to go. We rounded them up and went inside to pay our respects. All things considered, I think every kid present was very well behaved. Devyn’s astute three-year-old observation was that “mamma’s daddy shouldn’t wear his glasses while he’s sleeping.” That got quite a few giggles from everybody. I think Lee would have liked that one too. The kids eventually lost interest in the goings on. There’s only so much visitin’ a kid can stand. So I went with them to the playground. Sitting on the tailgate of my brother-in-law’s truck, I took in the surroundings. At the intersection Hamilton and Ferguson Streets, the funeral home is located on the southwest corner, the church on the southeast corner, EMS services on the northeast corner and an empty building with exposed aggregate walls on the northwest corner. Not a lot of traffic on a Sunday afternoon. My gaze wanders to the church and I realize it has a distinctly beautiful architecture. While the kids played, I made my way around the building to take pictures and enjoy the design. I was hoping to find a cornerstone on the building in hopes I could learn a little of the history. Even better, I found a State of Texas historical landmark plaque. The church was constructed in 1910. The congregation was founded in 1900. The church’s 100’ tower was, for many years, the tallest church between Dallas and El Paso. Check it out on Google maps. Sitting there surrounded by the laughter and screaming of the kids, the somber ritual across the street and this incredible piece of architectural history, I am struck by the magnitude of it all. The kids, most too young to comprehend what’s going on across the street, don’t have a care in the world. A lifetime of experiences lies ahead of them. The visitation across the street marks the end of a life’s journey. And a 100 year-old building standing watch over this scene, as it has countless times before. I take the moment in and let it linger like the scent of a fresh flower, grateful for the opportunity to witness it.

The second observation comes to me the next day while sitting outside Pleasant Grove Baptist Church south of Anson, Texas. We are waiting for the funeral service to begin. Nobody is looking forward to the tears and good-byes to come. Family and friends are engaged in idle conversation in the unusually warm November weather, trying to keep their minds occupied with other topics. I watch the funeral director and his staff as they prepare the church for the service. They carry in flower arrangements. Most are red, white and blue in honor of Lee’s service in the U.S. Navy. Live plants arrive as well. Then the thought comes: Why do people send flowers and plants to funerals? The obvious reason is to express their support and love for the family who is grieving. But what purpose or function does it serve? How did this ritual start? Surely it’s more than a capitalist conspiracy by floral companies to generate revenue. Armed with the phone, I google that exact question. The tradition of having flowers and plants at a funeral service may have actually arisen out of the more utilitarian need for aromatic herbs and strong-scented flowers to mask odors in the days before modern embalming techniques. Obviously this is not the case in modern times, so there have to be other reasons folks continue this tradition. Turns out, there have been numerous studies conducted on this very topic. One such study, entitled "The Role of Flowers and Plants in the Bereavement Process," set out to understand the value and role of flowers and plants in the funeral service and bereavement process. The short version of the findings: Flowers and plants provide warmth and comfort to the funeral setting. In the study, 77% of respondents said flowers and plants brighten up a somber environment and 53% said they give folks with something else to talk about during the visitation. They also seem to be a living memorial to the deceased, as they are almost always taken home by the family. Personally, I think it’s a gift from God. The beauty of His creative power surrounds us and is meant to remind us that He is still the Great Comforter.

So the next time you find yourself at that crossroads where life and death meet, take the time to soak up the little details. You never know what God will reveal to you in those quiet moments.

Edward Lee Jordan
March 25, 1949 - November 11, 2010