A life lived well
At this point in my life, I've been to many funerals. There have been some where a young child died before they had a chance to really live. Some who have died leaving young families behind. Some which were unexpected and some which I knew were coming. Some for which they had no hope of an eternal reward. And, like the one I attended this past weekend, some who I know I will see them again and for whom their funeral was a time to celebrate a life lived well. My Uncle Andy was my mom's oldest brother. He and his wife June and children lived about 45 minutes from our home and so we spent quite a bit of time together. I don't remember a holiday as a child when, if we weren't with Stoltzfus relatives, we weren't either at their house, they were at ours, or we were all at Aunt Cleone & Uncle Merritt's home. It was always great fun to be able to go to their farm, the "home" farm where my Mom lived from age 13 until she left home....