Thursday, March 06, 2008

A Funeral

This afternoon we held the funeral for Pet Stutts, Judy's mother. First, of course, there was the big lunch provided by the members of the church. Fried chicken, meatloaf, ham, macaroni and cheese, casseroles, and desserts galore.

After lunch came the service, which was better than I'd expected. Quite nice, in fact. Pet had requested on song, "Sunrise," and she wanted it sung by John Nance, who sang at Judy's and my wedding. John's quit singing as he got older, so the pianist played the song. (John was at the funeral, sitting on the front row.)

The weather was terrible, in the 40s with high winds and drenching rain. Not so bad for the service in the church, but the graveside was another story. I felt sorry for the pallbearers, who had to carry the casket quite a distance. I felt sorry for the rest of us, too, because we had to make that same trip, though not loaded down. Everyone under the tent was cold, wet, and probably miserable, but preacher didn't dilly-dally. He read a couple of verses and sent us on our way.

It's been odd to stay in Pet's house without her. Eerie, even. And it's tough to think she'll never be here again to fix fried steak and black-eyed peas for us when we visit.

As long as Pet was alive, I could tell myself that I wasn't part of the oldest generation in the family. I can tell myself that now, but I'll know it's a lie. The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down . . . .


atcampbelliii said...

It was a good service. I complimented the pastor afterward. The turnout was excellent. Aunt Pet will be much missed.

Banjo Jones said...

Not to be overly morbid, and my condolences on the passing of your mother in-law, but I can't help but wonder what song do you want played at your funeral.

Personally, I haven't thought about that question for myself, but I may now.

Bill Crider said...

Thanks for being there, A. T.

Banjo, I'm not sure I want a funeral. But if I must have one, I'm thinking of medley of some old-time gospel songs might be fun. The fast ones, not the slow ones.