Aunt Shirley set out specific instructions for her funeral. She wanted a graveside memorial, nothing more. The pastor said it was to be ten minutes long and that Shirley specifically said it had to start on time (that was so Shirley, we laughed) and so it did at 10:00 a.m.
The pastor read the selected verses, and in a very short homily (she didn't actually know Shirley) told of her education and her life on the farm. We finished with the Lord's Prayer and that would have been that, except the people present did know Shirley and one by one stepped up with Shirley stories.
One woman made her a loaf of bread once using apricots. Shirley looked at it and said she shouldn't have bought anything so expensive, dismissing the idea that the woman could bake.
One of the older members of the crowd told how Shirley always told him to walk straight. He said she thought he was trouble. He turned out fine.
I told about the time she checked my teeth. She was proud of hers. (Gary wanted to bury a toothbrush and toothpaste with her.)
Another told about falling asleep when Shirley went on and on about the family history. She was considered the family historian. I had the same experience once when I was supposed to keep her busy so Gary and a crew could clear the yard without her interference. I listened as long as I could and finally noticed there was a dirty window. I wrote "HELP!" backwards on it. Gary came back in and rescued me.
These family stories are what made the funeral special.
Tonight, I am back in Seymour. Gary reports that he took Shirley's cats to their new home. He will be back here in Seymour tomorrow. He will have to go back to the farm with his family to sort through old photos and mementos in a couple of week.
Meanwhile, Gary and I will think about our future together. There will be much to report here.
The pastor read the selected verses, and in a very short homily (she didn't actually know Shirley) told of her education and her life on the farm. We finished with the Lord's Prayer and that would have been that, except the people present did know Shirley and one by one stepped up with Shirley stories.
One woman made her a loaf of bread once using apricots. Shirley looked at it and said she shouldn't have bought anything so expensive, dismissing the idea that the woman could bake.
One of the older members of the crowd told how Shirley always told him to walk straight. He said she thought he was trouble. He turned out fine.
I told about the time she checked my teeth. She was proud of hers. (Gary wanted to bury a toothbrush and toothpaste with her.)
Another told about falling asleep when Shirley went on and on about the family history. She was considered the family historian. I had the same experience once when I was supposed to keep her busy so Gary and a crew could clear the yard without her interference. I listened as long as I could and finally noticed there was a dirty window. I wrote "HELP!" backwards on it. Gary came back in and rescued me.
These family stories are what made the funeral special.
Tonight, I am back in Seymour. Gary reports that he took Shirley's cats to their new home. He will be back here in Seymour tomorrow. He will have to go back to the farm with his family to sort through old photos and mementos in a couple of week.
Meanwhile, Gary and I will think about our future together. There will be much to report here.
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