Celebrating Life: The Importance of Community Support

I was fortunate enough to grow up in a neighborhood where people supported one another. This is all being brought to mind as one of my former neighbors passed away recently. He had dealt with a multitude of degenerative diseases for years, supported by his loving family. I was fortunate enough to attend his celebration of life. I had never participated in a funeral or celebration of life as an adult. I was anxious that there would be an open casket, and I wouldn’t know how to handle that. It ended up that he had been cremated, and his ashes sat in a beautiful urn on a table at the front of the room. I didn’t realize that visitation typically starts before the service, and I was fortunate to arrive early enough to participate and spend some time with the family.
After the visitation, we took our seats, and the family made their solemn entrance. The service proceeded with a sense of reverence. Beautiful hymns filled the air, and several people shared their cherished memories of the departed. The most poignant part of the service for me was hearing new stories about my beloved neighbor. Learning about his involvement in his daughter’s school, his unwavering dedication to his family, and the depth of love he inspired in his family and friends was a powerful reminder of life’s true priorities and the hope to be surrounded by love in our final moments.
Family, loved ones, and community come in many forms, and my former neighbors are like an extended family to me. This particular neighbor was there for me when I was locked out of my house as a middle schooler, and we shared many camping trips. When my dad thought our house had been broken into, he was the one who checked and reassured me. Growing up in a community where trust and support were the norm was a true blessing. Even now, my parents remain friends with these old neighbors, and I make it a point to visit them whenever possible.
Community can be hard to come by, and just because we grow away and towards new communities doesn’t mean we leave the old behind. I’ve recently started attending a new church periodically. I still visit my old home church about once a month. The people who are there are still very important to me, and I have a lot of love for that congregation. Places change as well as people, but I still go back to the areas that have nurtured and sheltered me in years past. I have brought my boyfriend and his son back to my home church to meet my old neighbors. The weather at the block party left quite a bit to be desired.
We had only been there thirty minutes or so when it started raining. Summer in the South means if you wait five minutes, the weather will change, and rain storms can appear out of nowhere. We all huddled underneath two tents, catching up and waiting for the rain to let up. This, in my mind, served as a representation of what my home church and my neighbors have done for me over the years. When times were rough, they would join me in the storm and help me find my way out of it. They might toss me a proverbial flashlight or have a conversation with me when I felt lonely after my mental health crisis. The saying is true: if you want to go fast, go alone; if you want to go far, go together. To my neighbor who passed away and to my neighbors who are still here, thank you for braving the storms and walking with me.