Funerals

I’ve been to a few of them in my lifetime. My grandfather on my mother’s side died when I was 15, and also his sister who preceded him in death a month earlier. My other great aunt died when I was 14 I believe. Either way, it’s been a good 8 years since I’ve been to a funeral. I remember not really feeling sad at the ones I attended in the past. I think I was too young for the capacity to understand what was actually going on.

This past Wednesday night at the viewing, my dad read me the letter that he had written for his father, and he could not make it to the end without sobbing. I told him that at the funeral, I would stand by his side and take over if he could not finish. I had never seen his face look so relieved.

When my dad and I stood up to go to the podium on the day of the funeral, I prepared myself for a difficult task: if he was not even able to make it through the first sentence, it was my duty to read this 9 page hand-written letter.

However, my dad made it to the end. He even made it through to the part that had been the catalyst to his tears the night before. I was so proud of him. But, then, he pulled out a poem he had written, and said the words, “I’m now going to ask Taylor to read a poem I’ve written”.

It was at this moment I realized the honor I had just been given. I was going to read these beautiful words aloud to my entire family, to comfort them in their time of need.

I read the poem loudly and slowly. My voice did not falter once. Pappy Goss deserved that.

I sat back down, and my aunt, who was seated beside me, reached over, grabbed my hand, and said, “You are so beautiful, Taylor. Thank you.”

My eyes welled up with tears. I was honored to have done this for my family, and for Pappy Goss.

I think I understand funerals a lot more now. Pappy Goss was relying on me to read for him with grace, poise, and confidence, honoring his legacy in our small town. My family soaked up the words and probably appreciated that they weren’t the ones having to do it, because they would have fallen apart. I’m glad I could serve them, and my grandfather, on his last day.

Rest in peace, Herbert.