I’ll Always Have Five . . .

Lisa Thomas • May 17, 2018

His son had left this life tragically and much too soon.  I never knew exactly what happened and I never asked.  I figured if that was knowledge I was supposed to have then someone would supply it without me making a formal—and none-of-my-business—request.  But honestly, the circumstances didn’t change the end result—a family left to struggle with loss they did not understand but had to accept.

Whenever he calls on business I always let the conversation run its natural course and, when I know the pleasantries and updates are over, I ask how he and his wife are doing, as well as the rest of his family.  They have four other children and I know the loss of the first born—the big brother–has to be tough on everyone.  During one of those conversations, while he pondered life as they now know it, he said something I thought was exceptionally profound.  “Whenever anyone asks, I’ll always tell them I have five children.  I’ll always have five.”

Note the tense of the verb in his statement.  I’ll always tell them I have five . . . not I had five.  It is his way of telling the world that this child is no less important—and no less his—just because he is no longer here.  His absence from this planet does not diminish the life he lived or the position he occupied in the family.

Honestly, that’s true no matter how old a child is when Death stakes his claim.  If they are newly arrived you have still anticipated that arrival for nine months.  You have watched as they grew.  You have planned and prepared as their birth approached. You have hoped and dreamed of their future, and although the watching and planning and preparing and hoping and dreaming may have been in vain, that child is still a part of you.  When you start adding years of life to the equation, and all the memories those years can hold, the bond grows even stronger, and it will not be broken by Death.  Because, you see, no matter the length of their life, no matter the timing of their death, that child is still your child.

And they always will be.

By Lisa Thomas June 18, 2025
It was dark outside when the phone rang; a glance at the clock revealed the day was still in its infancy, which explained why the funeral director’s brain did not want to engage. Years of experience prevailed however, and he answered the call, finding on the other end of the line a hospice nurse requesting their services for a death that had occurred in a home.
By Lisa Thomas June 11, 2025
In honor of the upcoming day of celebration for fathers everywhere (or at least in the United States and a few other countries), how ‘bout we look at some fun facts and/or interesting tidbits regarding the holiday and dads in general?
By Lisa Thomas June 5, 2025
It was 1972 . . . a Sunday in April when Don Price and his brother Laverne decided to go swimming at Pickwick Lake. Don was finishing up his Junior year at Central High School in Savannah and had been voted Most Athletic and Best All Around by the students there.
By Lisa Thomas May 29, 2025
The years and the connections they shared compelled her to attend the service acknowledging the end of his time on this earthly plane. There was just one problem. She had a three-year old . . . and funeral masses are usually not well tolerated by such creatures . . .
By Lisa Thomas May 21, 2025
For the past several years I’ve taken the week before Memorial Day to focus on a few members of our military who lived in our area—and who gave their lives in service to our country.
By Lisa Thomas May 15, 2025
My maternal grandmother was a fiercely independent soul, having been born and raised on a farm in the New Hope community of rural Hardin County, Tennessee. She made up for her lack of travel experiences by marrying my grandfather who worked for TVA during their years of dam construction across the southern United States.
By Lisa Thomas May 8, 2025
It was late one Saturday afternoon when the guests gathered beneath the boughs of an ancient oak. They had come to celebrate the beginning of a life together for two young people they all knew and loved, but before the ceremony began with the official seating of the grandparents and parents of the bride and groom, a woman walked down the aisle, carrying sunflowers which she gently laid in a chair at the front.
By Lisa Thomas May 1, 2025
The crowd was tremendous, numbering in the tens of thousands, and all willing to wait the almost eight hours it could take to reach their destination. And the vast majority of them came armed with cell phones and the occasional selfie stick.
By Lisa Thomas April 23, 2025
As a child I always had a love-hate relationship with Easter. I loved the egg hunts we had at school, walking to a nearby classmate’s home and searching for the elusive eggs scattered about the yard. I wasn’t crazy about being required to dress up for the church service—mainly because I wasn’t crazy about being required to dress up for much of anything.
By Lisa Thomas April 17, 2025
When a family comes to the funeral home to make arrangements for someone they have loved and lost, they come bearing much more than clothes and a picture for the memorial folder. They just don’t always realize it.
More Posts