Julia
R.I.P. Julia, my grandpa’s sister. Today our family held her funeral.
I didn’t know her well. She wrote nice letters to me when I was little. The few times I met her, she was very kind.
That impression was borne out by the funeral. Stories were told of her kindness. They were interspersed with hymns and scriptural readings.
Before the funeral, the church served quite a feast. Some six hours later, after a long nap, I still viscerally remember that feast. The rice dish. The potatoes. The chicken drumsticks. I also drank three delicious bottles of Aldi water.
Little Samuel made the rounds and was much admired. He wore pajamas to the funeral. No one could put him to sleep, though, until Roger, his first cousin twice removed, rocked him to sleep.
Here, Samuel plays with Roger’s beard:
I didn’t know her well. She wrote nice letters to me when I was little. The few times I met her, she was very kind.
That impression was borne out by the funeral. Stories were told of her kindness. They were interspersed with hymns and scriptural readings.
Before the funeral, the church served quite a feast. Some six hours later, after a long nap, I still viscerally remember that feast. The rice dish. The potatoes. The chicken drumsticks. I also drank three delicious bottles of Aldi water.
Little Samuel made the rounds and was much admired. He wore pajamas to the funeral. No one could put him to sleep, though, until Roger, his first cousin twice removed, rocked him to sleep.
Here, Samuel plays with Roger’s beard:
