Death is like the rumble of distant thunder at a picnic. W.H. Auden
Attending a funeral always tends to blues me out. And when the funeral is at St. Michael’s Church, it really does take me to a “weird” state of mind. I say weird because I’m not sure how to accurately describe the feelings and thoughts that run through me as I sit quietly with the other funeral goers and let myself sink into a quiet depression. I would call it an in-between-state-of-mind but then I am not sure what it is that I am in between.
At John Wayne’s service yesterday I was sad that another good friend and relative has left us. Here is an excerpt from his obit.
Speaking of John’s cousin Bart, it is fitting that John’s gravesite is not far from Bart’s. My Mom often says that at this point in her life of 87 years, she now knows more people buried in the graveyard than she does who are alive. I haven’t actually run the numbers to see if I can say the same. However, whenever I am in St. Michael’s Cemetery it sure does seem like a lot of the folks I once knew are now there.
After John’s services, Bobbi Nelson (Roberta Reeves) organized a Russian toast in memory of him at Buzzy’s Country Store. The toast involves knocking back a shot of vodka while saying “Nostrovia.” Thank you Bobbi and Cathy Wright for organizing all this. (Still some vodka left if anybody wants to say Nostrovia to John Wayne.)
Keeping with the Russian theme and because John looks a little like Omar here, check this out: