I'm back, just barely. Mornings are the hardest it seems. Although I am told that this is normal. I am trying to take care of myself and I'm uber-busy. I'm headed to Daufuskie Island this weekend for a conference. The joy in that is that it's literally across the water from Hilton Head Plantation and I can spend some time with my gramma. The last three weeks have literally been a blur, blur blur.
The place where my grandfather was laid to rest is beautiful. He's buried in the Beaufort National Cemetary. It's really pretty. We said goodbye to him on Monday. The church gave us a CD recording of the memorial service, which included the world's coolest nephew singing, Amazing Grace..which totally slayed me and everyone else in the chapel.
The nice thing about the memorial service is that Pap Pap planned it. One day while he was being especially ornery in the hospital, my gramma said to him, "Well, why don't you call Clark (the minister) and plan your Memorial Service?" and Pap said, "Bring me the phone".
And so he planned it.
What do you say about a man who lived just shy of 80 years? Who was a constant companion to my grandmother? An excellent tinkere
r and a skilled musician? What do you say about a man that would have been so proud to see all of his grandchildren gather together to honor him? What do would he say when he saw my youngest brother, decked out in full military dress, present the flag to his wife, my grandmother?
I'd say these memories will always be with me. Along with the secret memories of just me and my Pap Pap. The bike rides, the walks on the beach, the words of encouragement, the adventures in music. Those are sacred to me.
And I'm sure God said to him, "Well done, good and faithful one".
The place where my grandfather was laid to rest is beautiful. He's buried in the Beaufort National Cemetary. It's really pretty. We said goodbye to him on Monday. The church gave us a CD recording of the memorial service, which included the world's coolest nephew singing, Amazing Grace..which totally slayed me and everyone else in the chapel.
The nice thing about the memorial service is that Pap Pap planned it. One day while he was being especially ornery in the hospital, my gramma said to him, "Well, why don't you call Clark (the minister) and plan your Memorial Service?" and Pap said, "Bring me the phone".
And so he planned it.
What do you say about a man who lived just shy of 80 years? Who was a constant companion to my grandmother? An excellent tinkere
r and a skilled musician? What do you say about a man that would have been so proud to see all of his grandchildren gather together to honor him? What do would he say when he saw my youngest brother, decked out in full military dress, present the flag to his wife, my grandmother?I'd say these memories will always be with me. Along with the secret memories of just me and my Pap Pap. The bike rides, the walks on the beach, the words of encouragement, the adventures in music. Those are sacred to me.
And I'm sure God said to him, "Well done, good and faithful one".
1 comment:
Wendy
That was a beautiful post. I don't think I could have written anything better.
xoxo
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