The Funeral
Time is like a river. You cannot touch the water twice,
because the flow that has passed will never pass again. Enjoy every
moment of life. As a b>-bleeped-<iper, I play many gigs. Recently I was asked
by a funeral director to play at a graveside service for a homeless
man. He had no family or friends, so the service was to be at a
pauper's cemetery in the Blue Ridge, Georgia back country at Chigger
Ridge..
As I was not familiar with the backwoods, I got lost and,
being a typical man, I didn't stop for directions.
I finally arrived an hour late and saw the funeral guy had
evidently gone and the hearse was nowhere in sight. There were only
the diggers and crew left and they were eating lunch. I felt badly and
apologized to the men for being late.
I went to the side of the grave and looked down and the
vault lid was already in place. I didn't know what else to do, so I
started to play.
The workers put down their lunches and began to gather
around. I played out my heart and soul for this man with no family and
friends. I played like I've never played before for this homeless man.
And as I played "Amazing Grace", the workers began to
weep. They wept, I wept, we all wept together. When I finished, I
packed up my b>-bleeped-<ipes and started for my car. Though my head was hung
low, my heart was full.
As I opened the door to my car, I heard one of the workers
say, "I never seen anything like that before, and I've been putting in
septic tanks for twenty years."
Apparently, I'm still lost....it's a man thing.
