I, too, was touched and humbled by the show of respect demonstrated on those Arkansas roads. I had to resist waving a “thank-you,” to everyone we passed.

I miss my Gammie, but I’m positive I’ll see her again and I know her mighty life-force lives on in each of us.

Love you, girl.

JanetB: I COMPLETELY agree– there IS comfort, closure and a real purpose in those kind of rituals! No one’s life should feel like an afterthought after they’re gone… I think that’s why strangers showing respect moved me so much– Gammie was so much more than just an empty bed at the nursing home, her life mattered to so many people. I will pray for your husband for the loss of his friend– what a sweet friendship!

Momma Lloyd: OK, the marshmallow comment made me laugh HARD! You would have loved Gammie– she was your kind of woman!

Cynthia: That image of neighboring farmers and their wives standing on the porch and coming out into the yard to honor and ‘reclaim’ your dad just undid me! What a beautiful picture of love and connection… And your wrote it so beautifully!

I was doing just fine till I read the portion about the cars pulling over; then the tears fell, it makes one proud to live in the south doesn’t it.

When I buried my dad in “93” we brought him back down to Clay Co. in Southeastern KY; to lay him to rest in the family cemetery; on top of a hill that had @ one time been part of the original farm. We too had cars w/ lights on pulling off to the side of the road, but what struck me most, and broke my heart in a good way (very touching) were the neighbors on the road where dad grew up. Old men and women who remembered a toe headed young boy running up and down the gravel roads and playing on the swinging bridges that crossed Sexton’s Creek.
They came out onto their porches and front yards; the men dressed in their bibbed overalls removing their hats to place them over their hearts, because they could see the flag draped casket inside, and the women in their shirt dresses and aprons, waving a dish cloth as he passed by. It was as if they were reclaiming one of their own.

Those same precious souls filled the old house w/ more food than anyone could possibly eat; and as I was told several times that day, “I know you’re hurtin’ Honey, but ya gotta eat.” I believe that some of the best family reunions take place @ southern funerals.

While reading I remembered what I was taught as an impatient child sitting on the side of a hot dusty road on one of our regular trips down from Cincinnati. I asked why we had to stop and pull over; and mom said it’s out of respect, there’s a body in there that Jesus loves enough to raise up on the last day, and it’s the least we can do to acknowledge that they graced this old earth, and were loved.

Thank–You for sharing the love your family has for your Gammie; and for allowing all of us to step off onto the side of the road and acknowledge a fellow sister in Christ.

The thought that I’m struck with is – See, this is why we have the rituals!
My husband, Dan – who just turned 50 – lost his 85-year-old best friend last week. Elmer was diagnosed with a brain tumor (no symptoms up until his collapse) about a month ago; he had been in a nursing home since then. And there was no funeral…no visitation…no memorial…nothing. Elmer was cremated and will be scattered over at the old farm – where he and Dan “played” together nearly every Saturday for the last decade – sometime in the spring.

Dan has been like a lost puppy this last week, the poor guy. And I just keep thinking that not having a service was a big mistake. For one thing, all of this happened so quickly; one night, Dan talked to Elmer about their plans for Saturday…the next night, Elmer was in the hospital. And for another…it’s like Elmer’s life has become an afterthought. I mean, it’s a big deal when someone is born – shouldn’t it also be a big deal when they die? Elmer was here, but now he’s not…and we’re just moving on without even pulling over alongside the road to acknowledge that. How empty is that?

My mom died 6 years ago today. Like your Gammie, she was a force of nature. (Emma invented the word “obstinate.” Really.) My cousin, Tom, preached her funeral. The last 3 weeks of Mom’s life, Tom came to the nursing home every afternoon to sit with her – and to bring her a lime slushie from Sonic. And every day, they argued over Tom paying for the slushie. (That was SO Emma!) After Tom told that story, he put his hand on her coffin…”I love my Aunt Emma…but she’s not here. She is risen!” That was my favorite part.

We all owe the Smedley family a debt of graditude for adopting and nurturing our favorite gospel singer early in his life when he was adrift. June Smedley is a saint in my eyes! Russ’ inclusion in this sweet family is no doubt a “God thing”! The perfect gift from a good God. Perhaps, without their support and love, we never would have been blessed with “Trumpet of Jesus”!

Our funerals up here in the north are similar. We pull over too, if not, we get a ticket! And people bring food to the stricken family’s home……or put on a dinner at the church. But the truck stop funeral meal is a first for me! And I suspect the knitting grandmother cabbie would have loved it!