Friday, June 20, 2014


I never met her but I helped bury Lillian today. That's not unusual, I've helped bury over a thousand people and I think I only met a third of them. Occupational hazard. Lots of people die that I've never met but who I help bury.

Lillian was 101 years old. I once buried a woman who was 103 who I knew well, but Lillian was the second oldest person I helped bury.

She was married for 70 years. Imagine that! She and her husband had no children but people at the funeral told me she loved kids.

She drove her car until she was 95 and some relative with good sense took away her keys.

She was an organist and pianist and loved to dance.

She's someone I wish I had met.

The two people who made the arrangements were a great niece and a great nephew. Good people.

When you live to 101 and only spend a couple of years in a home, along with the niece with special needs who you cared for for decades until you both went into a home, life has been good.

Ponder for a moment what changes someone born in 1913 saw happen. Mind blowing.

She and her 10 siblings rode into town on a horse drawn wagon.

Lordy, Lordy. Bless; you Lil, who I never met. Observer of a century of remarkable change.

Tell it all to Jesus when you meet up with him in the life to come.

(I'm not sure I believe in that particular scenario, but for Lil I'll keep an open mind....)

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some ponderings by an aging white man who is an Episcopal priest in Connecticut. Now retired but still working and still wondering what it all means...all of it.