Goochland Express
265 words.
Went to Cynthia’s grandmother’s funeral today. Saw a lot of people who seemed to know me a lot better than I knew them.
Also today I got to be a pall bearer. It was quite unexpected. Cynthia’s brother Jeff, who was scheduled to be the pall bearer, had to pull out of the funeral procession because his son starting throwing up. So Cynthia asked me if I would be a substitute pall bearer. I said, “sure, that’s been a life long dream of mine, now that you mention it.” (That is a slight exaggeration.) Anyway it all went pretty well. The funeral home people are a bit pushy though, but I guess that’s their job (“step up, walk left, turn right, turn around”). I must admit that I was a little disturbed that they knew which way “head first” and “feet first” was.
Speaking of funeral processions, while crawling along the back roads of Doswell and Goochland, I finally realized where that expression “the quick and the dead” came from. “The dead” are in funeral processions. “The quick” are definitely not.
That should sufficiently appall any of Cynthia’s relatives that read this…
On a more serious note, Cynthia showed me where her great-grandparents and great-great grandparents were buried. I was struck (you might even say thunderstruck) by how much family history she has readily available whenever she wants to drive out to Goochland to see it. I personally don’t have the vaguest clue where my great-grandparents and great-great grandparents are buried. In fact, I’d be hard pressed to tell you where my grandparents were buried.
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