My heart is hurting for the Nunnally kids

I have no business stopping my homework to post this, but my heart is hurting, and if I write it down, I can focus on my notebook. I went to a funeral today of a mom, stepdad, and their 8 month old grandbaby. I have had their children in class, but I did not know the parents.
I can't imagine the pain that Heather is feeling right now. Not only did she lose her mom and stepdad, but she had to bury her 8 month old baby girl also. I didn't want to go. All morning I kept thinking, "It won't matter if I go; there will be plenty of people there: I didn't really know these people: I have too much to do to stop now: It will be too hard because it was in the same church that we had Jason's service in;" and on, and on, and on... Finally at one o'clock I decided that I would go.
I have been wondering what I could say to these kids. I didn't know if their parents were Christians. I could tell the young mother that she could see her baby again, but if her parents weren't Christians, what if she asked me about their fate. I could tell them to rest on their faith, that that would be the only thing that would bring real peace and comfort. But what if they had no faith, what would I say when they asked me why God allowed this tragedy to happen.
I'm so glad I went. I learned that this couple had recently been attending church in Earlsboro and were talking to the pastor about joining the church, so now I don't have to worry about discussing their fate with their children. What can I tell these kids?
I can tell Heather something that a grieving mom told me. You will never grieve again the way you have for your child. Your heart has survived true heartbreak, and that heartbreak will serve you well. You will be able to tell others who experience the death of a child that it is horrible, but that you will see happy times again.
I can tell both of them that their mom, stepdad, and Summer are together in paradise, and if we could see them now, we would not want to bring them back here where there is pain, suffering, and death.
I can tell them that the best way to survive this is to draw from the strength of the family and friends who love them.
The preacher told one little illustration that gave me comfort. He told us to imagine that these three people were on a ship that left the harbor. We watched them until the ship they were in grew smaller and smaller until they went over the horizon, and then we couldn't see them any longer. On the other side, others were standing on a dock watching the ship appear on the horizon and get larger and larger. The people on the dock were saying "Here they come." They were greeted by family and friends already in heaven.
I loved that image. I can see our family and friends waiting for Jason last September. Some of those people had never met him, but they were there because they already loved him. They may have known him as a child, so they were going to meet him as a man. What a comforting image.
I told Chris, the young man I had in class, that I was praying for him. I am and will continue to do so. I hope he got the same comfort out of the message today that I did.