We need to have a talk...

...with whoever it was that came up with the word “funeral”, because despite taking up almost half the word, “fun” really isn't part of it.

A long-time friend of our family—we knew him from church, and from school. One of his boys was a grade ahead of me, another a grade behind me, and the third was about three back. We all played football together, and his wife had been a kindergarten teacher and librarian at our school, and had been one of my Cub Scout den mothers (and she shares my birthday).

A man of incredible handiness and quiet optimism, he and the boys built their own garage and shop in their backyard using rough lumber, a few hand tools, and a good eye. Always full of good humor, and even at threescore and ten, he had a handshake like a vise.

In the last couple of months, he was diagnosed with cancer, which spread rapidly despite several drastic surgeries. The family thought that a corner had been turned last week, though, and he got to move from the SICU to a private room. And then he was gone.

I dropped by my mom’s office and picked her up. NO way I was letting her drive again. Although she did want to go by the Farmer’s Market on the way back.

No.

Reba decided to take the day off and had gone with the kids to get her mom. My father-in-law, bless his workaholic self, had gone into work (in Tuscaloosa) and then driven BACK up for the funeral, and was going to go right back to work afterwards. Half a day on the road, that.

We all sat in the back of the funeral home chapel, which is good for getting to see everybody. Which we did—folks we knew that had been former customers, folks from school, folks from church. A moment or two of quiet, then a couple of short eulogies by the current preacher and the man he replaced, and then it was time to go. A few more hugs and handshakes and bits of hurried gossip in the lobby. It was good to see folks I hadn’t seen in forever. But it wasn’t fun.
posted by Terry at 4:35:00 PM