The Burning Smell of Death

The door to the furnace opened. I heard a trolley moving.

Everyone craned their necks forward, in silence. In dread. 

"Be brave." A voice cried out. It was someone in the very first row, just in front of the glass panel. Sobs can be heard.

I held onto the railing in front of me, breathing in and trying to compose myself. It felt like the worst feeling ever. I had an impulse to grab the hand of the girl beside me, but I gathered the courage not to.

Slowly, the wooden box rolled forward, just beneath us. The atmosphere was unbearable. There we were, a crowd of about fifty, watching the coffin move into the next phase. Everyone was silent. 

The man inside was my churchmate's father, who had succumbed to cancer after battling with it for a good few years. I did not know him at all, although I have seen him in pictures on Facebook posted by my friend.

Still, there is something sobering about watching a fellow human's life coming to an end. I have never come this close to death before, only going to void deck wakes and looking at the departed in glass coffins.

As the coffin rolled nearer to the furnace, there was a heaviness that lingered in the air, pierced by sobs, crying and sadness. And if i, a person who never knew him, could have such a grieved moment, I could not imagine the pain of his death through the eyes of his family and friends.

And although, we know, in scripture, in consolation, that He is gone to be with our Father, the wanting to stop the coffin from inching further in is real. The hope for forever, for immortality, the desire for death to be defeated was immediate. 

Alas, we were all physically separated, here we are, the alive in the viewing gallery, and the dead in the coffin. 

Finally, the coffin entered the furnace area and the door closed. That was it. Everyone slowly streamed out the exit. Everyone, after consolations and hugs, returned to their normal routines and their lives.

I drove away, returning to civilisation, returning to doing my work, resuming my life.

But tonight, I felt the need to write this down, to remember. I left that experience with strange feelings. The regret of death is real. 

I wonder if this will change my heart for evangelism. I do not know and only time will tell. But one thing is for sure, the regret of death is heavy. 

I wonder if it will change my outlook on life. I wonder if I would start prioritising some things over others. 

I know in my head and in my heart, God and his promises. It's a hard thing to reconcile though, when a body is going to be burnt. But then, all the more, all the more, I need to hold onto my God, the God who conquered death.

For now, I am glad to be breathing, living and knowing, the joy after death.