I got to Arkansas on Tuesday. I met up with Elizabeth on Wednesday and we spent most of the day together, and most of it at the funeral home. It was very hard to see the father of my best friend . . . surrounded by flowers, by all the things that reminded us of him . . . like his deer trophies, his cowboy hat, lots of pictures. He was wearing camo; a hunter to the very end.
Wednesday night was the visitation. Mandi and her husband and I stayed pretty close to one another. Mandi's mom stayed close too. They had just lost her dad short weeks before. I went out to visit Mandi's mom on Thursday morning before the funeral. The days are still difficult.
The funeral was nice, and just as I think her dad would have wanted. His mother-in-law read a story he had written. It was about a boy and his hunting dog, and about how they grew up together. It was very good, very discriptive as we heard of quail floating up from grasses and dazzling sunrises. I never knew Mr. Curtis wrote stories.
I got to have dinner with Elizabeth and her family after the funeral. We all had a nice time, a little rest and some joy at being together.
Courtney came by Thursday night, and we talked and talked as I started to fade into sleep. I had a long drive ahead of me the next morning, but I hated for the visit to end.
So many things about Easter weekend and this weekend struck me . . . it's never easy to say good-bye, no matter what. There are bonds that go beyond years and miles, beyond blood relation. There are things that will always ache in my heart, things that time and new memories will never erase. There really is a "peace that passes understanding." Tears and laughter are healing. Embraces from friends only grow sweeter the older we get. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things.
There are people who you know will always be there for you. Not that they or you will ever be perfect . . . but just that always, always, always . . . they'll be there for you.
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