It's the natural order of things.
If you're lucky, you bury your parents and not the other way around. For that I am grateful.
We're wrapping up mom's life. The funeral was Tuesday and the service was well attended and nicely done. The minister knew her and reflected on her life with real meaning and joy. He did a good job. My brother and I appreciated his effort especially after another preacher had done an embarrassingly fifth rate job of dad's good-bye sixteen years ago.
For a woman of nearly 90, the turnout was remarkable. We thought most of her friends were dead, but we were wrong. She had lots of them, many we didn't know, and they came out in force. She died rich in friendship, a real feat when you consider that dementia had made her a consummate insult artist the past few years. After the long ride to the cemetery, we took several in attendance out for Horseshoe sandwiches, a local delicacy that mom used to make. They weren't as good as the ones she created, but tasty nonetheless.
We're home in California now having gladly left the broiling Midwest behind. Good people...awful climate.
Daughter Katie and son-in-law Doug were good enough to bring 21 month-old Daniel to pay final respects to the great grandma he never met. Kate snapped what I think is a cute picture of Linda and me holding his hand as we wound up a steamy day in Springfield, Illinois. Maybe he'll bring some new little person to see us off when the time comes to say "adios" and "thanks for the candy grandma and grandpa" many years down the road.
Mark Twain said, "Let us endeavor to live that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry."
She did and he was.
If you're lucky, you bury your parents and not the other way around. For that I am grateful.
We're wrapping up mom's life. The funeral was Tuesday and the service was well attended and nicely done. The minister knew her and reflected on her life with real meaning and joy. He did a good job. My brother and I appreciated his effort especially after another preacher had done an embarrassingly fifth rate job of dad's good-bye sixteen years ago.
For a woman of nearly 90, the turnout was remarkable. We thought most of her friends were dead, but we were wrong. She had lots of them, many we didn't know, and they came out in force. She died rich in friendship, a real feat when you consider that dementia had made her a consummate insult artist the past few years. After the long ride to the cemetery, we took several in attendance out for Horseshoe sandwiches, a local delicacy that mom used to make. They weren't as good as the ones she created, but tasty nonetheless.
We're home in California now having gladly left the broiling Midwest behind. Good people...awful climate.
Daughter Katie and son-in-law Doug were good enough to bring 21 month-old Daniel to pay final respects to the great grandma he never met. Kate snapped what I think is a cute picture of Linda and me holding his hand as we wound up a steamy day in Springfield, Illinois. Maybe he'll bring some new little person to see us off when the time comes to say "adios" and "thanks for the candy grandma and grandpa" many years down the road.
Mark Twain said, "Let us endeavor to live that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry."
She did and he was.
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| End of a long day |
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