One of my favorite memories of growing up is watching Hee Haw with my family. That variety show gave me an appreciation for bluegrass music and for artists like Roy Clark, Buck Owens, and especially Grandpa Jones. I still smile when I think about their skits, performances, and corny, cornfield jokes.

Grandpa Jones, with his banjo by his side, would often do a version of the folk song Cindy. Some of the lyrics were downright silly. “Well, I wish I had a needle and thread, fine as I could sew. I’d sew my Cindy to my side and down the road we’d go.” But the chorus was my favorite part of the song. “Get along home, Cindy, Cindy, get along home. Get along home, Cindy, Cindy, I’ll marry you someday.” It’s that part that brings me comfort when I think about our sister, Cyndi, who died. She’s gone home. It makes me smile.

Cyndi Kirkwood was probably the strongest woman I have ever known. Not in physical force, but in disposition and determination. She lost her battle with cancer early Thursday morning. She fought until the very end, literally with her last breath. In so doing, she taught us all some life lessons about how to get home.

You have to start in the right place. The reason that we can rejoice and smile, even in this time of sorrow and grief, is because Cyndi was a Christian. She believed with all of her heart that Jesus was the Christ, the Son of God, the Resurrection and the Life. She was obedient to His word and obeyed His gospel. She prepared herself to go home whenever He should call her.

What’s more, she surrounded herself with people who shared those same convictions. She first learned about God through her godly parents. Her brother, Tim Coffey, is an outstanding gospel preacher, one she was proud to listen to. Her best friend in the world, Heidi White, was also a fellow elder’s wife. And her choice for her soul-mate, Ron, was one who was faithful to his wedding vow to love her “in sickness and in health.” Together, they made sure their daughters, Leah and Kelsey, understood what God required of them to run life’s race.

You see, when you start in the right place, taking steps with the Savior and those who love Him like you do, the way home is all the more clear.

You should anticipate some turns along the way. No life is perfect. No existence is exempt from bad news, tragedy, or pain. It’s not a matter of “if” but “when.” And then the question becomes “what will I do about this?” Cyndi Kirkwood must have anticipated that one, too.

One of the phrases I heard more than any other the last several months is, “She is amazing.” And she is. The dignity and class with which she faced her diagnosis and setbacks were the same as she employed in every other aspect of her life. She viewed it all through the perspective of this “worst” case scenario: “I get to go be with the Lord.”

Never was there any detection of bitterness or “why me?” All she asked was that she could be present at her daughter’s wedding sixteen days ago. What she became was the prettiest flower girl there ever was. God can turn unexpected turns into unforeseen joy.

You can still serve when you’re nearing the end. Due to a delicate brain surgery, Cyndi lost the use of her left arm in her last days. But she did not use that as an excuse for inactivity. In fact, she did more with one arm than most can do with two.

She continued to come to services as much as her health would allow, even when it was obviously painful for her to do so. She was concerned about those who tended to her, making certain that they were comfortable and not inconvenienced. Two days before she died, she looked up at Amanda White and remembered that it was her birthday. Among her last words spoken were, “I love you” to her devoted Ron. Even in selfish circumstances, she remained a selfless servant to the very end.

The Lord was Cyndi Kirkwood’s shepherd. As a result, she did not fear when she walked through the valley of the shadow of death. And now, she will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

So, get along home, Cyndi, Cyndi, get along home. Get along home, Cyndi, Cyndi, we’ll meet you there someday.

—Bubba Garner