A relative died this morning, and his funeral is set with full military honors early Saturday morning. As we live 1,600 miles away my husband is boarding a flight in hours to be a pallbearer.
This death was a shock to all, but the family soldiers on and the grandchildren (there are ten) will be honorary pallbearers. To make these kinds of arrangements in less than 12 hours is remarkable, as well as getting permission to have him buried in the pasture. Perhaps the sadness hasn’t hit yet and they’re in shock and “we MUST do this” mode. I don’t know. If it were my husband I’d be a horrible sobbing mess. Or perhaps not.
I do know that it is another blow to a grandmother to have now lost two of her five children. My heart goes out to her and everyone left behind. I am not going because it’s too expensive to send two of us on this journey when it’s my husband’s family. All I would do is cook and clean up the kitchen and there are many other women to do that, plus all day people have been dropping food by the house so my contribution might be moot from the start.
So I’ll pack a bag for my husband, whose black suit still fits, and take him to the airport at the crack of dawn. My thoughts and prayers are with his family as this is a tough time for all. Respectfully, Dee
Cooking with Dee 