Friend's funeral

Jayne and I attended the funeral of a friend Tuesday. This is the woman I wrote about last week who collapsed in the library and Jayne helped to revive with CPR and mouth-to-mouth.

It was a "perfect" day for a funeral, if there is such a thing. It was pouring rain and gray outside. Odd, really, because it's January. No snow on the ground and only rain from above.

I brought the full box of tissues. I cry a lot a funerals. Heck, I cry a lot anyway. I cry when Spock dies in "Star Trek II" and I cry in "The Little Mermaid" at the end when Ariel kisses her dad on her wedding day. I get teary in The Beatles song, "She's Leaving Home." Jayne makes fun of me because she caught me crying one day when I was watching the animated "Batman" series at 4 in the afternoon. Granted, I was sick and had a fever of like 500 degrees, but Commissioner Gordon had been shot was clinging to life in the hospital ICU. ...

So, of course, I cried at our friend's funeral. I held off until her son stood up and gave a speech about how he didn't mind being "a momma's boy." His voice trailed off with tears, so I had to join in.

It was nice to see that her family was surrounded by friends, that people could exchange funny stories and remember her impact on their lives with fondness.

Thought: There was never a time when I did not exist, nor you. Nor will there be any future when we cease to be.