He fell into a coma within an hour, from which he did not awake. He passed two days later.
I went to his funeral on Saturday. To many, I justified it by saying it was the right thing to do. It was right to be there and support family members I am still close to. In all honesty, though, I needed to be there for myself.
I arrived a few minutes late and sat alone in the back of the church, so as not to disrupt anything. It was.. surreal. Surreal to look ahead at this little box and think that is this man who always had "Big" attached to his first name. The great grizzly bear of a man was this little box. I couldn't comprehend it.
The gathering was small- 20 some close relatives and a handful of fraternal order "brothers". The service was short, but meaningful.
The "brothers" gathered in front and delivered their own service after the religious passages were read. I was struck by some of their words, and later asked for a written copy.
Let us, therefore, preserve his memory and dwell on all that was good and amiable in his character. That our Brother was faultless cannot be supposed, but just as we shall all appear before the Almighty Judge, let our hearts register only our Brother's virtues. Farewell, my Brother; you have gone to meet your God, and may He approve of you. May we be faithful and when our end approaches, may our eyes be closed in peace.
May he rest in peace, and may those of us left behind to wrestle with the past find peace as well.
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