Christian living and homemaking, along with a few tutorials.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
A Very Special Tribute
Today is a day or remembrance for all of us who knew Nicholas Masiker, a gifted young man that was taken in a car accident 2 years ago. He was my children's classmate, my church's very talented musician and jokester, brother to Laura and Mary-Kay, and our very dear friends' Larry and Brenda's son.
Please take the time to look at my 6 blogs, as each one will have something different that we would like to offer for Nicholas' remembrance. And as you read each blog, please say a prayer for this dear family, Larry and Brenda, and their two daughters, Laura and Mary-Kay.
Because my Chocolate Bouquet blog is my light-hearted blog, I wanted to share a story that Laura told at Nicholas' funeral. The below story was written by Laura-enjoy. :)
It was in the early parts of the year 1997, my brother was 8 and I was 9. We were home schooled children, living in the country, and we had no television or computers. But, we had imagination and each other. We fought like cats and dogs to the point that we were either going to kill each other or Mom was going to kill us and we also played together as best of friends because up to this point in our lives we really only had each other as playmates.
It was in February that our dad’s uncle passed away who had been a member of the Navy for several years. To my brother this was cool--here we are going to a military funeral! I don’t remember much about the funeral, but I do remember that a soldier folded a flag and presented it to a family member, they spoke words of his military career, did a 21-gun salute, and honored him before the mourners. Right before they closed the casket, all soldiers present reverently approached the casket and solemnly declared, “Farewell, my departed comrade.” In all reality this was a very sad and solemn occasion but to an 8 and 9 year old it was just a fascinating experience.
It wasn’t too long after that my brother and I were home playing inside on a blustery day, when one of us had a splendid idea. Since we both loved to pretend, we decided we were going to play military funeral. Nicholas insisted on being the soldier so, unfortunately, I was the deceased, laid out on my bed in the finest fashion in solemnity and sadness. As I laid there stock still (only peeking a little) my brother carries his toy rifle around the room, marching with a sad look on his face. He folded the flag and presents it to a teddy bear. He slowly approaches my “casket” and looks down at me as his little body salutes. He stood there looking at me with sorrow as he sadly blurts, “Farewell, my departed cobweb.”
That was the end of our playtime…my mom and I succumbed to laughter as she tried to explain to Nicholas that he heard wrong. We laughed about it for several years.
Ten years later I stood at my brother’s casket and reverently looked at him in sorrow. He was 18 and I was 19, just beginning our lives as adults. We were good friends by this time and had a lot of fun times together. As I stood there focusing on every detail of his still form, memories rolled back in my mind taking me to a place when we were little and full of imagination. I didn’t do it in form, but I mentally saluted Nick and said to him in tears and indescribable sorrow mixed together, “Farewell, my departed cobweb.”
Unknowingly, my brother had declared silly words as a child that later on he became known by. I spoke at his funeral and relived that story to the laughing crowd, but I wonder how many people, as they traveled by his casket saying good-bye for the last time, said to him, “Farewell, my departed cobweb.”
It has been 2 years now! Time sure does fly by. I wonder who Nick would be if he were still alive and I wonder where he would be. But sometimes when the sorrow is the worst and I miss him so much I go to his graveside and talk. Sometimes I just sit and remember. Other times I weep. But every once in a while his deep voice comes echoing back from somewhere in the heavens and I hear the things he used to say, sing, and play and ever so faintly I can hear, “Farewell, my departed cobweb!”