Ringing Bells

Today I went to a funeral for a woman I knew slightly.  I went because I know her son and wanted to offer my support.  She was a popular woman who led a long and fruitful life.  The minister did did a good job describing her life so we all knew about the significant events in her life and how much she treasured her family.  At the end of the service it is the tradition in this church to ring the bell for each year the deceased lived.  We all sat in the pews and listened to the bell ring 89 times.  I counted.  As I counted I tried to picture her at each age.  Here she is as a five year old standing with her two older sisters.  Here she is at 22 meeting her future husband at the Prom Ballroom.  Here she is on her 30th birthday bringing her little son home from the hospital.  Now she is in her 40's and her son starts junior high and they move out to a new house on the lake.  In her fifties her son gets married.  In her sixties she has two grandsons.  In her 70's they sell their house and move into a condo.  In her 80's she becomes a widow.  I fret knowing the bell will soon be silent.  The bell stops ringing after 89.  The silence was overwhelming and incredibly sad.  The ringing of the bells was an awesome and moving tribute to her.  I have heard bells at other funerals but never like this.  I was very touched.