That Time I Had an “A-Ha Moment” at a Funeral

Today is probably going to be a rambling blog post day. It’s not one that was pre-scheduled or planned, but last week something pretty major happened and while I’m still reeling from it … all of these feelings, thoughts and one hell of an “A-Ha Moment” happened that I just had to share.

The weekend before last, my best friend from across the street as a kid lost her father, quite suddenly. I have known this family since I was 11 years old, and Christina was basically my little sister throughout my teen years. Her house was my teenage refuge, my hangout spot, the place I knew had a steady supply of real Pepsi and Cooler Ranch Doritos and nail polish and where I could watch MTV’s TRL Countdown with Carson Daly and Saturday Night Live (back when Cheri O’Teri and Will Farrell were on), because they had cable TV. I spent my summers in their pool, watching Hook and Speed, calling the local radio station (Power Radio, anyone?!) at all hours of the night to win CDs and tickets to the local water park.

Ashley and Christina, 1999

When I left college and was going through some pretty rough life stuff, Christina’s family took me in – no questions asked. Judy and Bob have always had an open-door policy at their house, making everyone feel welcome and loved. It was, really, my home away from home.

So when I found out that Bob had passed last weekend, my heart ached in a way I had never experienced before. When we moved back to the desert nearly two years ago, part of the reason why was so I could be closer to my family – not just my actual family, but my adopted family and our friends who still live here from childhood. I kept telling myself I should make a plan for a BBQ with Christina and her family at some point, I kept thinking we’d bump into each other or somehow the stars would align and our schedules would stop being so busy so I could at least grab a cup of coffee with them. But it just never came to fruition, because I always just told myself I’d have time, eventually. That’s a mistake we all make – thinking we have time.

I didn’t cry at first when I got the news; of course, I felt devastated and heartbroken for Christina and her family. I thought about all the things Bob would miss – walking Christina down the aisle when she gets married, birthdays and holidays, watching Christina’s two girls grow up. It wasn’t until I was at the funeral that I cried, because I was watching Judy (Christina’s mom) – and I realized she’s now a widow.

Father John spoke during the funeral about Bob and his life, how beloved he was by his family, friends and the community. He spoke about how Bob had 78 beautiful chapters in his life, and how each one came together and told a beautiful story about him and the people in his life. And then Father John said something that really reverberated with me:

Telling stories is what makes us human.

I sat there, in the pew, letting that sink in and it hit me like a ton of bricks: telling stories, remembering good times (and bad), carrying on the traditions of our families, taking photos and passing these things down to the next generation – this is the core of humanity. It was one of those “A-Ha Moments” that Oprah was always going on and on about back when she was on TV; I have them every once in a while and sitting there in the pew, surrounded by all those people, with sunlight streaming in through the windows and the organ quietly playing the background … I realized, once again but this time just a little bit deeper –

What we do really, really does matter.

Bob and Judy had been married for 39 years. For half their lives, they had been by each other’s side – through better or worse, sickness and health, good times and bad. I remember seeing their wedding photos displayed in their house and giggling about them as a girl, in all their late-1970s glory, not realizing then just how cherished they would become over the years. I’m sure in forty years, our kids and grandkids will giggle at the trends of today (big floral crowns and bow ties and everything else we absolutely love right now) – but we’ll look at our weddings with such love because of the people and stories behind them.

It’s not the photos that matter – it’s the people in them. It’s the emotion and the love and all the little cosmic things that had to happen in order for that day to happen. It’s the choices we make, over and over again, that end up becoming the stories of our lives. It’s those stories that Father John was talking about – and it’s a lesson I’m taking with me into our business and into the rest of my life.

Wedding days aren’t just about the details, despite what wedding blogs tell you over and over … It’s about the people. It’s about the stories. It’s about the hugging and kissing and laughing and crying. It’s about the moment. It’s about the vows. It’s about the start of a new chapter in the lives of two people, and for us – it’s an honor to be part of their story.

So even though I’m heavy-hearted and weepy, I’m going to smile today: I got to grow up with one hell of a good fella across the street, and be so glad that he was part of my story.