Funeral
Funeral today
Went to a funeral today
I went to my grandfather's funeral today in Grafton Massachusetts
I went to my grandfather's funeral today in Grafton Massachusetts, he was a war hero sixty years ago
I went to my grandfather's funeral today in Grafton Massachusetts, he was a war hero sixty years ago. Last week he was at home by himself, and the week before that the same. Now he isn't here anymore. I walked into the funeral home and I was greeted by Peter.
I went to my grandfather's funeral today in Grafton Massachusetts, he was a war hero sixty years ago. Last week he was at home by himself, and the week before that the same. Now he isn't here anymore. I walked into the funeral home and I was greeted by Peter. Peter worked there for over fifteen years, and he picks up names like anyone else if you saw him more than twice. He knew mine, he should, I've seen him three times now in two years. It was night, and the roads were reflective. A perfect day to rain I guess
I went to my grandfather's funeral today in Grafton Massachusetts, he was a war hero sixty years ago. Last week he was at home by himself, and the week before that the same. Now he isn't here anymore. I walked into the funeral home and I was greeted by Peter. Peter worked there for over fifteen years, and he picks up names like anyone else if you saw him more than twice. He knew mine, he should, I've seen him three times now in two years. It was night, and the roads were reflect. A perfect day to rain I guess. It makes sense, really. What does not make sense is how everybody acted there. I mean people I never met before, distant family, neighbors put on masks of close friends. I understand being respectful to direct family, I don't know, just feels odd. Half way through the thing people were smiling, and laughing. It was one big comical event. Everyone was getting along so well. The laughs and jokes suppressed all the grim feelings we all shared. They broke out feelings, and reshaped them into pleasant thoughts. It's the same idea used in making cereal for children these days
I went to my grandfather's funeral today in Grafton Massachusetts, he was a war hero sixty years ago. Last week he was at home by himself, and the week before that the same. Now he isn't here anymore. I walked into the funeral home and I was greeted by Peter. Peter worked there for over fifteen years, and he picks up names like anyone else if you saw him more than twice. He knew mine, he should, I've seen him three times now in two years. It was night, and the roads were reflective. A perfect day to rain I guess. It makes sense, really. What does not make sense is how everybody acted there. I mean people I never met before, distant family, neighbors put on masks of close friends. I understand being respectful to direct family, I don't know, just feels odd. Half way through the thing people were smiling, and laughing. It was one big comical event. Everyone was getting along so well. The laughs and jokes suppressed all the grim feelings we all shared. They broke out feelings, and reshaped them into pleasant thoughts. It's the same idea used in making cereal for children these days. For some adults too I suppose. The sugar, marshmellows, candy, chocolate make up all the smiles, laughs, and enjoyment, which make the bitterness in your mouth go away in the morning. It does work though right? That was a joke , haha. Don't get me wrong I love sugar. So my grandfather looked restful, this day, motionless, and quiet. All the qualities of the deceased. He had his olive military jacket with his medals next to him, and an American flag on the inside of the open door of the casket, along with a hat, and one silver bar, first lieutenant. I instantly thought of all the things connected to that rank, his stories about Normany, his stories in fields in Europe, and things related but not so much to him. I wondered why second lieutenant came first, maybe it's like first place, it's better? I thought of all the war movies, the ones with John Wayne, and the ones without him. The memories the memories, reflections of what happened, never clear, someone disturbed the water of my memories. Disturbance, like the sugar cereal, like the laughs and jokes that were said at the precession. It has the lightness of being all a complex, organized event, with laughs on the way there, but it isn't. It can't all just become simpler, death is too real, as is life. Well now he isn't thinking about all this, he is in some other place. I visited him last weekend in St. Vincent's hospital in Worcester, Ma. I've seen him before there, he looked better then, compared to last week. I said in the back of my mind, this is it, the last time, alive. So the death did not come as a surprise at least, if that's any consolation. I guess now I can laugh.
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True story, the funeral happened about seven to eight hours ago. I am a first year college student in Boston and this is the story about my grandfather's passing.
For him