We sat and watched Gorden B Hinckley’s funeral service this weekend on the Internet. It was very moving. At the end, during the closing song, as images were being projected of the life of President Hinckley, I couldn’t hold back my tears any longer. Isak asked carefully: “Dad… are you crying?”
First I wanted to deny it, not wanting my sons to focus on me, but rather on the broadcast, but as the trickle turned into a steady stream of tears, there was no way of hiding it. But at that moment a thought came to me: Let them see, it’s okay; let them see you cry; let them see the tears shed for a beloved prophet. So I replied: “Yes, son… it’s because I loved him so very much.”
“Dad, you’re gonna make me cry too!”
I smiled. “It’s okay.”
But then he started off as if he had the most brilliant idea: “Hey! Why are we looking at this?” Hmm, I thought, that was a nice moment, but there goes his concentration. But he quickly added: “Why don’t we look upwards instead?”
“Upwards?” I asked bewildered. “What do you mean?”
“Cause he’s not there! He’s not in the casket! Why do we look at the casket when he’s really in heaven? Let’s look upwards instead!” To Isak it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Probably because it was.
I just laughed through my tears. “Okay, let’s look upwards.”