I haven't blogged in a while. This is for a number of reasons that I will now blog about as is the custom among the bloggerati. A large volume of work has kept me busy with...well work. My New Year's celebration was enjoyable however it has been chronicled already. And most significantly was the very recent passing of a family friend.
The man was the husband of my mother's best friend since before my older brother was born. This woman is honestly one of my favorite in the world. She is constantly full of life and spunk and has never once said anything but a kind word to me. Seeing her cry makes me hurt in that soft part in the middle.
The funeral was actually perhaps the best I have ever been to, whether that is appropriate to say or not. It was an actual celebration of the man's life as opposed to a sermon or melancholy obligation. Personal friends got up to share anecdotes that made everyone realize what they loved about the man. There was mourning, but there was also laughter. Every person's funeral should have that.
I honestly didn't know the man too well, but I knew he made his wife happy and was kind to me when I met him. I am sad that the world is without him.
I don't want to get introspective and rant about my feelings about the afterlife or spirituality or anything like that. I'm not that kind of person. Funerals/death don't really have that effect on me. Instead I want to do what I can by sharing my favorite story about "Big Jim" that I heard.
When they were teenagers Jim and his brother were hired to paint a house. Jim's brother apparently didn't pay attention when they arrived to the house and pulled up into the driveway. After unloading the tools and ladders and so forth from their truck the brother asked Jim how he wants to split the workload. Jim said that he would take the front of the house and that the brother could take the back since the back would be easier since no one really sees the back and his brother could be a little less careful. "Go ahead and you'll be done in no time," Jim said. Jim's brother worked all day to finish the back. As it was getting dark he finally finished and came around to the front to find Jim relaxing with some beers from the cooler. He had been done for several hours. The house was half brick in front.
The man was the husband of my mother's best friend since before my older brother was born. This woman is honestly one of my favorite in the world. She is constantly full of life and spunk and has never once said anything but a kind word to me. Seeing her cry makes me hurt in that soft part in the middle.
The funeral was actually perhaps the best I have ever been to, whether that is appropriate to say or not. It was an actual celebration of the man's life as opposed to a sermon or melancholy obligation. Personal friends got up to share anecdotes that made everyone realize what they loved about the man. There was mourning, but there was also laughter. Every person's funeral should have that.
I honestly didn't know the man too well, but I knew he made his wife happy and was kind to me when I met him. I am sad that the world is without him.
I don't want to get introspective and rant about my feelings about the afterlife or spirituality or anything like that. I'm not that kind of person. Funerals/death don't really have that effect on me. Instead I want to do what I can by sharing my favorite story about "Big Jim" that I heard.
When they were teenagers Jim and his brother were hired to paint a house. Jim's brother apparently didn't pay attention when they arrived to the house and pulled up into the driveway. After unloading the tools and ladders and so forth from their truck the brother asked Jim how he wants to split the workload. Jim said that he would take the front of the house and that the brother could take the back since the back would be easier since no one really sees the back and his brother could be a little less careful. "Go ahead and you'll be done in no time," Jim said. Jim's brother worked all day to finish the back. As it was getting dark he finally finished and came around to the front to find Jim relaxing with some beers from the cooler. He had been done for several hours. The house was half brick in front.
2 comments:
I like this post :)
I laughed out loud at that story.
It's a good funeral that leaves you uplifted. That's what they're for, I think. My grandfather's was like that, I'm glad to say.
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