Grief, heavy like sticky syrup poured over pancakes, filled the room.
It coated the mourners, making it hard to move. Hard to speak. Hard to breathe.
I hardly knew him, but stopped to offer my condolences.
To hug and be hugged, as we remembered the days of this stranger’s life.
John Fowler served twenty years in the US Air Force before retiring and starting a second career in the IT field. He is also a Lay Pastor serving a small church near his home in Texas. His hobbies include reading, golfing, writing, and now oil painting.
A lovely reiteration of “No man is an island.”
Afterthought: Or is this really about a pastor’s difficult duty to deliver a eulogy for someone who barely touched his life?
Alex, good observation, and now that you mention it, it certainly could be. But that was not the case — I was not the pastor in this case. Thanks for the comment(s) and the thought.