Leaving Uplifted

This was the weekend I've dreaded since my brother-in-law, Barry, had announced that he had Stage 4 melanoma. At age 53 we had the committal ceremony graveside and the following day, his memorial.
My sister had an extremely difficult morning, not wanting to get up and begin the day. And yet, there were some amazing twists and turns to be had.
I received a phone call from Janet, my cousin by marriage. We'd just lost my uncle the previous weekend, and now she had more awful news: her mother lives in the San Bruno neighborhood where the gas explosion had happened. She'd escaped with her life thank God, and they were making their way back to Janet's childhood home to see if there was anything left. Depending on what they found, they may or may not be attending Barry's memorial.
It was a beautiful day in California and the committal ceremony was fine. My sister's grandson Aiden crawled onto her lap and hugged her. She rocked him as he wrapped his arms around her neck. How touching it was to see Barry's legacy - his beautiful grand-children - providing comfort to Janice.
On our way to the reception some good news and a miracle: While the entire row of homes were burned to the ground, Marilyn's home was the first one on the street that was completely standing. They would come to the memorial.
Saturday, the church was packed. It was standing room only as Barry's father, sister and one daughter spoke of their remembrances of Barry. Most touching was an "adopted son" named Ryan whom Barry had taken under his wing and mentored as a young teenager into manhood. He closed his talk by saying Barry lived his life paying it forward, and we should all do the same as a tribute to him. The music and songs were simply amazing, sung by a full choir and many musical instruments.
Then, one of those moments that when it occurs, you know it's something you'll remember the rest of your life: pastor was closing the service. My sister approached the pulpit and said she'd like to speak for a few minutes. She turned and faced the hundreds packed into the church. First, she said she wanted to look out on all who came and thank them for all they had done for her and Barry. Then, she lifted her hands into the air and began singing a song of praise.
My sister has a beautiful voice. Years ago she'd been asked to sing backup for Melissa Manchester. It's a soprano voice, clear and her pitch is always perfect.
She sang the first few lines alone as we sat mesmerized. Then a few voices added theirs to hers. Soon the entire congregation joined in. My sister stood there, arms raised and eyes closed, her voice strong and true. When it was over, Janice said "you know you're in a Lutheran church when you hear 4-part harmony!" to which everyone clapped and cheered.
Everyone went to the reception with a smile on their face.
I am in such awe of my sister.
In spite of her terrible loss, she did what Ryan had requested of us by paying it forward. She gave us joy in the face of incredible sadness. Instead of taking home images of tears and people breaking down, I will forever remember my sister at the pulpit, arms uplifted, leading us all in song.
Sister, you are a miracle. What you did is the most amazing and inspiring thing I've yet to witness.