Being An Usher

I was in office this week along with another colleague. I was helping him to store a desktop printer on a filing cupboard. As he was already carrying it, I stretched out both my hands so that he could place it on my hands.

This printer now on my hands, brought back memories.

About seven years ago, I was asked my a very close family friend to help out in their church (me in church!) as an usher. They had lost their 14 month old son Mark. He was born with a brain tumor and many operations did not help him at all. It was time for him go and the machines were switched off. I was with them when they went to the hospital that day. I was not present when the life support machine was switched off. I was waiting outside the door.

At the church, We were all waiting for the hearse to come under the porch. Mat and Helen got out of the hearse paused at the tiny coffin, they then clasped their hands and walked in to the church.

Moments later, I was asked to carry the coffin down the isle to the alter. How could I say no? This was not an experience to remember. It was a very emotional experience. People around could have easily have mistaken me for the father. The tears were running down my face as I gently carried this little coffin bearing the remains of our little Mark. I laid it on the resting place. Paid my respects and did not look up as I walked all the way back.

Funerals were never the same to me, again.  An usher becoming a pall bearer in the process
DilXXX1982 DilXXX1982
31-35, M
Dec 5, 2012