If you are hoping for a laugh today, you shall have to look elsewhere. Please come back another day for a chuckle or two.
Class of 1983, I sat with you today. The last time we were all in one place was June, 1983, at our high school graduation ceremony. We sat on folding chairs on the football field. A light breeze whiffed our tassels. Today we sat indoors on plastic chairs with a flag-covered wooden casket before us. Those who could not be here held us close in their thoughts with heavy hearts. Today we mourned the loss of our childhood friend.
We came to show our love and respect for Jeff and his family, but we also came to support each other. In the days before this, we have been lighting up Facebook, as well as the phone lines, consoling and comforting one another, checking on each other, sharing our memories. Today we held hands, hugged, and shared Kleenexes. Those who could make the trip, both physically and emotionally, witnessed a wonderful tribute to our classmate.
I have never before attended a funeral with so much pomp. There were firefighters from at least three districts in their dress blues. At the beginning and again at the end of the service, all uniformed firefighters were required to go outside and form a line along the route the casket took between the fire truck and the door to the building. There was an honor guard, the members of which took turns standing at the casket. The honor guard also ceremoniously folded the flag that was draped over the casket and presented it to Jeff's mother. There were bagpipers who played while the casket was being brought in by the honor guard, and they played Amazing Grace while the casket was being taken out. The firefighters' rituals were fascinating, and I wished that I knew more about them. It was a beautiful ceremony.
Jeff's brother-in-law showed a video that he had created using photographs and scrapbook pages, and set to music. We saw Jeff as a baby, we saw the Jeff that was our school mate, and we saw Jeff as the man he had become. So many of those younger pictures of Jeff made it all seem like yesterday. Basketball games, dances, parties - when did that time fly by?
Several people spoke about Jeff. We can all agree that he had a wonderful smile and a kind heart. We learned how dedicated he was to his profession. His generosity knew no bounds - we heard how he emptied his entire wallet to a family who lost everything in a fire. No matter who it was, everyone had a funny tale to tell us that reminded us of the boy we knew: he could belch the alphabet, he always wore two pairs of socks, he loved to play with fire, he could defy the rules of food preservation and eat anything with no fear of unpleasant consequences.
Class of 1983, I sat with you today. You helped me become who I am now, and I hope I had a teeny part in helping you become who you are. We are not the same group who sat on the football field in June of 1983. We are five fewer.
