The funeral for my friend was today. It was nice, as far as funerals go. There was sadness for sure, but it was exactly as they printed it on the obituary: A Celebration of Life. Speaking for myself, it was bittersweet to reflect on the near thirty years he was part of my life, from joining his congregation (He was a minister.) as a child to the mentorship he gave me in my high school and young adult years all the way to the friendship we shared in the last years of his life.

What I didn't expect was how his family reacted. All of them remembered me and remembered me well. Not only that, they told me of all the wonderful things he said about me. Much of what we did was sit in his office after services and just talk. Talk about everything from his sermons and theology to general philosophy to the news to traveling. He visited many places in both a personal capacity and in his capacity as a preacher. I'm positive I get a lot of my love of traveling from him.

We were friends, and I have no doubt about our friendship, but I was surprised how much of an impression I made on his family. How much I was noticed, noted and remembered. It was humbling and heartening to hear.

The funeral service was quite the affair. It was held in his church where the sanctuary could hold 300 easily. It was standing room only. I was lucky my mom held a seat for me or else I'd have been a sardine in the back. Again, so many people were touched by his presence in their lives. I saw that and was grateful for his presence in my life.

I kept thinking of a short little verse while I was there.

"The Moving Finger writes, and having writ, moves on. And no piety or wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line and no flood of tears will wash away a word."

As sad as his passing was, I don't think I want to wash away a word. He had a good fulfilling life, an amazing story that I was privileged to be a part of.