of death and funerals...

The family and I went to a funeral today. We knew this man only as "Pops". He is the uncle of our next door neighbor Frieda Sanford and thus, great uncle to her 3 teens.

We knew Pops from the izzy group's grocery ministry several years ago. Pops was a terror on wheels. He really had lost his ability to drive well before his license and car was taken from him. The day he lost his license, a cop followed him into the izzy food pantry after witnessing Pops hit a parked car and continue driving off. Pops had no idea he had hit anything. And thankfully the cop realized Pops was not a hit and run terrorist, but an aging man who didn't need to drive anymore. Pops even hit cars in our parking lot a couple of times. And once, Agent Wife and I saw this erratic driver going down Mockingbird. "Yup...that's Pops", we said.

It was a very small, short graveside funeral. Although Pop's had no kids, I'm thankful he had an extended family who felt close enough to him to pay respects. He was buried in the cemetery I'd like to be buried in, should I be living in the fair mother city upon my end and should my family choose to bury me, as oppose to donating my body to science or something. It's the city cemetery, where all the common folks are buried. Nothing super fancy. Just plain-jane with a lot of history. Local homeless and poor are almost always buried there.

Funerals are a necessity in my life. I try to attend every one possible. I don't have a sick fascination with death or anything. But funerals are the one common event in our society that remind us all how temporary we are on this planet. And I like being reminded of that as often as possible.

I don't fear death. And for me, it takes effort to learn not to fear it.