Aftermath

Saturday was Pop's funeral. I don't know if it was because we'd been through it less than a year ago, or because we knew he was ok with death, but the entire experience was less emotional on the whole than my gram's funeral. I also did not have to give the eulogy, so I was spared the close examination and public recitation of the deceased. Now I'm sure will come all the decisions about what to do with what is left - the house, the things...so it's not really over.

At the cemetery, there was a bagpiper as there was at my gram's funeral. That is what really killed me last year. So I cringed when I saw him, along with three Navy seamen. My Pop was a Navy vet, so they were there in an official capacity. One played "Taps" on the bugle and the other two did the official flag folding and bestowal to my aunt Cheech. I was pretty close to the casket, so I could watch everything and see the sailor give it to her, with some words about "on behalf of the Commander in Chief and Commodore of the Navy..." That was pretty solemn and official. The bugle played "Taps" with an agonizing slowness that I do not remember from the few times I heard it played at campsites with Girl Scouts. It didn't have the resting, relaxed quality of a day at its closure, but the drawn-out, mournful tone of a final farewell. So this year, the bugle really got me. Who knew that the bagpipes and the bugle could be such touching instruments?

And now it's Monday and many of us are back to work and school...I can say that I'm not too thrilled to be here. Oh well. For the rest of us, life goes on.