Well hello, Coffee Shoppers! It's the old wistful Nosmo King back to tell another story. Grab a seat. We'll have s'mores later!
The autumn leaves are at their peak this week. So long as we can hold off the rain, they should cling to the branches a little bit longer. Apple cider is spectacular right now! The cool, wet summer has produced a bumper crop of apples and the cider presses are turning full tilt.
The family is just fine. Mom is doing well in spite of a bout of higher than usual blood pressure. Daisy the Mutt won first prize at a little local dog show. Her 'stick 'em up! BANG!' trick sealed the deal.
As we approach Halloween my informal and unscientific poll of children's candy preference reveals that boys want Sweet Tarts, Gummi Bears and chewing gum in their Trick-or-Treat pokes while girls want lollipops, but especially chocolate. It must be an X chromosome thing.
Back in 1997, one of my oldest and dearest friends lost his Mother to cancer. She died peacefully on October 27. She was buried on Halloween day.
Now, that particular year winter came early. On October 30, we got four inches of heavy, wet snow. Trick-or-Treat featured kids dressed up in costumes masks and face paint all obscured by winter parkas and mittens.
But the funeral that day was the point of the story.
I was tapped to be a pall bearer. If you have ever been a pall bearer, you know what I am talking about, but if you haven't, here's the low down on that task. It is an honor to be asked. It means the family of the departed trusts you enough to perform a sacred rite for their lost relative. But know this: caskets are heavy. I've seen scenes of pall bearers resting a coffin (the six sided box, not the refrigerator sized chest used most commonly around here) on their shoulders and solemnly marching toward the hearse or grave. That kind of carrying cannot be done with a traditional casket.
Rather, the handles on the sides of the casket are gripped firmly while the opposite hand is usually thrust out to achieve some kind of balance. Take a good look at the faces of the pall bearers and you will notice each of them wincing as they shuffle along. After a few steps, every pall bearer instantly realizes that the weight, coupled with the gravity of the situation (no pun intended) means that every last ounce of dignity must be brought to bear (pun intended) so that the occasion does not lose its air of solemnity.
So, here I am, last on the right, hoisting my friend's mother's casket from the hearse. Her grave was prepared, the Episcopal priest and immediate family were gathered under a dark green canopy. Mourners were arranged in a semi circle. All eyes were on the casket.
Remember how I told you that four inches of heavy wet snow was on the ground? The cemetery workers did not shovel a path from the drive to the grave. Oh. That grave was two third the way up a steep slope. And, to make the matter even more challenging, the autumn leaves had been knocked off the trees by the snow storm and were buried beneath the icy wet snow. And I was wearing dress shoes with smooth leather soles.
Should I finish the story now and let your imaginations fill in the details? Could your imaginations come up with a scenario more embarrassing that the truth? Let me dispel one image that, by now, has surly come to your minds. No, the casket did not pop open. Yes, eventually the six of us managed to get a grip, buck up and successfully deliver her to her final rest. But yes, I was not the only one of the six to slip and fall, but I was the one to have the casket pin my ankle to the ground as it fell from our grasps.
It truly is a thankless job being a pall bearer. And one that does not include Worker's Compensation coverage for accidents.
Happy Halloween, everybody!
I found some tamer sports to do.
