Re: When The Tables Turn...
In less than five short hours, I will again stand before a packed church and try to keep my emotional balance. The delivering of eulogies is becoming far too frequent these days, but I can't-- and won't --shirk my duties in fulfilling a promise made. I'm praying that the baring my proverbial soul via my words will lend comfort to some, and let the rest know how truly special a child we've all recently lost. Yes, she was another of "my kids..."
It never gets any easier, no matter how much I share from the front of a church. In fact, I believe that it grows harder each time, as the losses have something of a cumulative effect. Each compounds the last, and handling them without buckling under the onslaught is becoming more and more of a personal juggling act.
But, I will be there, as promised. And, once the services are done, my wife and I will travel north again, making one more stop along the way. You see, our visit to the cemetary and the graves of our two daughters yesterday found a path of destruction that defies my description without resorting to some very colorful language. More than 80 grave markers and headstones were vandalized during a drunken spree, given the huge number of beer cans spread throughout the cemetary. My cronie who's handling the carving of "Sam's" headstone will be meeting us there to assess the damage done and the prospects of salvaging the markers of our daughters graves.
Will somebody please explain to me the reasons behind actions so petty? I'm having a difficult time trying to understand the sort of mentality that sets out to destroy our final tributes to our loved ones...