Tears

I went to Fred's funeral yesterday. He was an older gentleman who lived a long and healthy lifestyle. An active golfer and avid smiler, it was hard to imagine Fred was in his 80's.

I don't do funerals well. I usually try to avoid them because I cry -- a lot. I could have been one of those professional mourners in ancient times. Women who were hired, presumably by the rich, to wail at funerals. I try not to be so emotional, but the tears leak out. Usually I look worse than the family who I'm supposed to be comforting. They inevitably end-up patting me on the back, giving hugs and words of encouragement. Geech.

No one I know disliked Fred.We weren't especially close friends, but he lived and died my ideal. Extending his hand with a smile, he had a welcoming soul. He died in his sleep. What a blessing. There are many things worse than dying.

Godspeed, Fred. And for your family, I cry.