Thoughts on my friend’s Allyson’s memorial service:
The first rule for any male going to a funeral or wedding service is to bring tissue or a handkerchief. It’s not for the male, but for him offer to others around and to be gentleman.
A private graveside service was held in the morning with the memorial service in the afternoon. Considering the age of her children, I think that was an excellent idea.
I forgot that this was her third bout with cancer, after beating it twice. But I guess when you finally succumb to cancer, you never really beat it.
Sometimes people tell me blogs are trivial, but she touched many, many people through her blog which has now turned into a book for each child and started a foundation.
I’d say about 1,200 to 1,500 people were in attendance.
This marks the third person that has died from my college Sunday school class.
I was glad that she died in the middle of summer instead of the school year, it makes it easier on her boys and give them time to grieve. It sucks losing your mom, but it would suck a bit more having to leave school and then come back knowing everyone is “looking” at you.
When the service started the music director pointed to a particular pew and stated that was her pew. I thought this was a nice touch, it started to make it very personal.
Somewhat surprisingly a lot of old hymns were played, with just a few contemporary ones. It just seems that everything nowadays is just focused on the “new” stuff. However, the last verse in the hymn 10,000 Reasons (Bless the Lord) stood out (especially the first two lines) and made everyone stop down, considering her long bout fighting cancer three times: And on that day when my strength is failing The end draws near and my time has come Still my soul will sing Your praise unending Ten thousand years and then forevermore
The mosting meaningful part of the service to me was when the children’s minister spoke. He addressed each of her children by name and told them that he’s going to read a letter to them given to him by their mother to read at this very moment. I mean, what kind of person has that kind of foresight? Here are three young boys who just wanted their mother, and she gave them exactly that. In the letter, she expresses her love for them, funny memories, and tells them it’s okay to question God and ask him why he would take away their mother. She goes on to say that God was going to take care of their father as well as them, and that in all things God is good, God is love, and they should continue to seek him.
The only family that spoke was her first born, who was twelve years old. He never broke down, but understandably choked up a few times. I was proud of the kid, he spoke well and from the heart in a place he never wanted to be.
The minister explained that she wanted her memorial service done in a specific manner, and provided him those instructions late last year. He went on to say he later discovered those same instructions were given to the youth minister and the funeral director – she wanted to make sure there was confusion in how this thing was pulled off.
I was surprised there wasn’t more people in attendance from her college years. That’s not a criticism of my college friends that read this blog, but I really thought I’d see more of her sorority sisters. Other than me, I only saw two others I knew from college.
In a weird sort of way, I actually enjoy funerals. It gives me a way to appreciate a departed one and for me to reevaluate things in my life. And selfishly, and I’m sure most of us are guilty about this, think about what kind of funeral we’ll have and how to live a life live up to that perception.
Yesterday I got a bill in the mail from the North Texas Tollway Authority for a car I sold two years ago, but the charge took place when I still owned the car. After a surprisingly friendly conversation with a customer service representative, she explained they got new software and anything left in the old queue was finally pushed out, and that’s why I’m just now receiving a bill. I had a Tolltag on the car so I’m not sure why it didn’t register, but she ran the transaction at the cheaper Tolltag rate.
Jason Segel on Letterman stated sandwiches are more diverse than burritos, and if a burrito becomes too diverse, it becomes a wrap.
Buzzfeed states that Jeff Goldblum (age 61) is engaged to a 31-year-old woman. She looks older than thirty-one me thinks.
If you’re on the beach, this map shows you what’s across the ocean.
I doubt Dallas will see a guy like Dirk here again, in any sport. He turned down more money to play for the Lakers and Rockets but stayed loyal to Dallas.
Dirk has always been a local fan favorite, but agreeing to be the 4th highest paid player on the team was incredibly selfless. This puts him up there with greats like Ted Williams.
A good name is better than precious ointment,
and the day of death than the day of birth.
It is better to go to the house of mourning
than to go to the house of feasting,
for this is the end of all mankind,
and the living will lay it to heart.
Sorrow is better than laughter,
for by sadness of face the heart is made glad.
The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning,
but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth.
It is better for a man to hear the rebuke of the wise
than to hear the song of fools.
Dirk has always been a local fan favorite, but agreeing to be the 4th highest paid player on the team was incredibly selfless. This puts him up there with greats like Ted Williams.
Dirk's a good guy. They are few and far between.
"Momma said there's only so much fortune a man really needs and the rest is just for showing off."
Ecclesiastes 7:1-5
A good name is better than precious ointment,
and the day of death than the day of birth.
It is better to go to the house of mourning
than to go to the house of feasting,
for this is the end of all mankind,
and the living will lay it to heart.
Sorrow is better than laughter,
for by sadness of face the heart is made glad.
The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning,
but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth.
It is better for a man to hear the rebuke of the wise
than to hear the song of fools.