 Ashland, Kentucky Last night, I visited the funeral home to see off someone whom we all dearly loved and considered part of the family. I thought back to my childhood, about the Sundays spent in the old country churches. I imagine a lot of you haven't attended churches like these: where the pot-bellied stove sits up front to warm the room in the winter. Where the only summer air-conditioning is the open windows where you can hear the creek and the birds. Where the preacher could wear overhauls and not look out of place- so quite often would wear them. Where the water didn't come from a fountain, but from a big thermos that sat on a table in front of the congregation. They were real people in a real building- nothing at all pretentious about either one. As I remember it, quite often the sermon centered around your body being a vessel that will be left behind. Still, it's a common thread in funerals, I've noticed. Last night, I was reminded that your life is a lot like the old building like I've captured above. At some point, the structure will be the only thing left but the real life, the real story, isn't the building or body itself but the memories that were made with it. The lives that were touched. Our old friend will be missed. Someone who made you feel very special- a rare quality indeed. will hold people in the palm of his hand, and even the undertaker will be sorry when he dies” Dale Carnegie (one of my most valued books that I own, copyright 1936 but still applicable) Comment (10) | Permalink |
4x6photo.com | Stairwell and windows | 09 March, 2006
