It's been over a week since Grandma's funeral, so it's about time I finally buckled down and wrote some of my thoughts. This will likely be fairly scattered, just warning you in advance. I'm also writing as if it were last Tuesday.
This is the second time this year that I've had the honor and privilege of pallbearing, as well as driving in the funeral procession. The service itself was nice, though in all honesty it seemed a might bit short. But then, any time that you try to condense a person's life into a short speech, it's going to seem inappropriately short, so I guess it comes with the territory.
I drove our van in the procession, chauffeuring mom and dad in the same vehicle in which I drove out of town relatives for Grandma Sue's procession not too many months ago. This time we had the honor of being placed as the first car, leading the line as we followed behind the mortuary van and the hearse. While the events are inherently down beat, I'll admit I derive some amount of enjoyment from having a police escort and being allowed to completely disregard traffic laws (though I did gladly and humbly yield to the ambulance that needed to pass through - their needs are obviously greater than ours).
The grave side service was short and sweet, as it ought to have been, but because it was such a beautiful day (the only nice day of the week without rain), the family stayed for a while to visit before wishing each other goodbyes and safe travel (there were two vehicles in town from Chicago area).
And now we can move on. Mom and Dad can plan more than one day in advance, and I can step down my guard from the expectation of middle of the night phone calls. This is the fifth funeral I've been to in the past year, and I'm hoping it will be the last for a while.