The viewing, mass and cemetery service are done. I held myself together by staring at the ceiling until shots were fired during the military service at the cemetery; then I lost it.
The same priest, same funeral home, has cared for three of my loved ones in the last two years. They've done an excellent job.
I don't have any photos of him tending cattle, fishing or pulling weeds. Or that time when he took me out fishing and I, as a child, caught my limit of trout before the adults and demanded everyone else go home becuase I WAS DONE FISHING.
Isn't that the way with all of us? We only photograph the fancy stuff. Not who we really are.
Here is this; my grandparents on their wedding day; December 29, 1952. My grandmother was a stunner and still is. He was from Pennsylvania and she is still a Southern gal from Alabama.
My grandparents and my mother.
Day is done, gone the sun,
From the lake, from the hills, from the sky;
All is well, safely rest, God is nigh.
Fading light, dims the sight,
And a star gems the sky, gleaming bright.
From afar, drawing nigh, falls the night.
Thanks and praise, for our days,
'Neath the sun, 'neath the stars, neath the sky;
As we go, this we know, God is nigh.
While the light fades from sight,
And the stars gleaming rays softly send,
To thy hands we our souls, Lord, commend.