Our Last Suppers
Saturday, June 27, 2009 It’s been emotional, today, my last communion service with Newport. An odd moment made me cry. While in the pulpit looking down at the order of service I was reminded that I was not having a children’s time this week, that only one more was left two weeks from now. I thought of how much they have taught me, how good and kind they are. I wish I weren’t so senitimental. Every passing minute in front of the congrgation or visiting with the members privately is filled with a deeper meaning now. The grief of realizing our loss is quickening.
Later, after lunch at home, Sharon and I took communion to Bill and Wendy, an elderly couple who find it hard to attend church now, and to Hilda, a widow in a care home. Given their ages, all three are past ninety, I imagine it was the last time I will see them.
After an hour of catching up, we broke the bread and drank the grape juice with Bill and Wendy as we sat in the shade on their back porch, a black bird singing through our prayer, the warm summer afternoon calming our hearts with thoughts of God’s love. Later they walked us to our car. It is a slow pain, this leaving one by one by one.
By the time we made the short drive to Hilda it was near her dinner time.
