Funerals and other Parties

On Saturday I went to a memorial service of my good friend's dad. After wrestling with cancer for six years, he passed away on Wednesday. At the funeral his grown children spoke about their father. He taught them to camp, fish, survive in nature, fix broken things, love people, make cream puffs, laugh, entertain, and never complain, even when cancer came and started stealing things away from him. He figured he'd had a better life than he deserved, and that all of it was a gift.

So we cried a little, but we also laughed a lot. Remembering a man who used to greet the garbage men with shots of tequila curbside means remembering some good times. At the end of the day, I was brimming over with the knowledge that I had been blessed just to know him.