Celebration of Life

I am so glad we don't talk much about funerals any more or even memorial services--we call them celebrations of life, and that's what the occasion should be. I took Charles this morning to the celebration of the life of William Russell Jenkins, surgeon, educator, husband and father, and good friend. We sat in the back, with my brother and sister-in-law, and I missed much of what as said (I did have my hearing aids in!) but I heard loud and clear when the minister said, "We were fortunate to have him in our lives." There were two eulogies, one by a young surgeon he had encouraged and one by his brother, himself in his 80s. The high point of the service, for me, came when Ray Jenkins led the congregation in singing his brother's favorite hymn, "Love Lifted Me." Ray led in an amazingly strong voice for a man of his age. And once again I found myself singing the familiar hymns, "Holy, Holy, Holy," and "Amazing Grace." It was truly, as John said, a meaningful service that gave you something to take away with you.
A good-sized crowd turned out, though of course afterward John and Cindy and I commented on the people who weren't there. But at the reception beforehand, I saw many people I hadn't see in a long time, and it was nice to be greeted. I always feel in that crowd of physicians I'm known these days as my brother's sister, which is okay because I am warmly welcomed. I got hugs from Russ' wife, Connie, and his daughter, Jerry, and son, William. I agreed with Charles--I was very glad I had gone.
Charles was tired after the service, so I hurried to get him back to Trinity Terrace, though several people wanted to stop and greet him. But he said he just wanted to be back lying in his bed. So I rushed him down there and signed him back in, then rushed home and arrived only a few minutes before John and Cindy. We all went to lunch at Carshon's and that visit was the icing on the cake of the day. They even sat for a while and visited on the front porch before they headed back to the country. At the deli, where I'm a fixture, I said to the manager, "This is my brother," and John said, "That's true." So I said, "I think we're both proud of that," and he grinned and said, "That's true, too."
It was a day on which I said goodbye to a man who had been very good to me, but it was also a comforting and most satisfying day.