Thank you

Last week, the father of a very close friend died. He lived a tumultuous life, the good, the bad, and the uglyhe bore witness to all. He was also so blessed to have been given the chance to love. Fiercely, and with unabashed joy, for he experienced loves, loves lost, friends, brothers/sisters, children and grandchildren.

I have been to many memorial services in my life, not that I had much choice in the matter. I prefer in instances such as death to assert my selfishness, and do whatever necessary to keep those I love close to me right here on Earth. Not that I don't believe in Godlife eternal even. I just think that it would be nice to live happily ever after. Not that any of us really know what that means.

About 8 years ago, after the death of my grandfather and my mother in just over a 24 hour time frame, I realized that I would probably never again mourn a loss in the traditional sense. I grieve for friends and family. I just mean to say that the actual event of the funeral calling hours and services are not something I can handle. I am also a nurse. I have seen more death in the last 10 years than most people will see in a lifetime. I am not afraid to be in the company of death, I just prefer to grieve in a chapel or viewing room without it. I don't need to see a man in death to be reminded of his life.

I have always had a tremendous respect for those who have served for our country, our freedom, our every breath. Before my son was 2 years old, I started teaching him to show this respect by thanking veterans every chance we get. Literally. We will go to the grocery store and see someone with a navy tattoo, or a V.F.W. hat, and we take that opportunity to shake hands and tell these service men and women that we are grateful. Unintentionally, we have reduced our country's' finest to speechless tears.

I personally was never so moved as I was at the service last week for a man I barely knew. I maybe met him two or three times at most. I simply needed to be there for my dear friend, as I know he would be there to support me as well. And isn't that what a funeral really isa means to show support to those left behind in the wake of death? The service began at the end of calling hours when we were all asked to step into the chapel. The pastor recounted family memories, and there was a lightening of spirits as many were

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