May 17th, 2003
Along with many others I listened to the funeral service of former First Lady Barbara Bush.
I watched her grandsons carry her casket to the hearse.
I watched the video feed of the funeral procession.
I listened to the music.
I sat quietly.
She was admired, respected and loved.
God gave her a gift of ninety-two years.
My thoughts went to May 17th, 2003.
Another funeral service.
Only two people talked about her life.
Her mother and her sister-in-law.
Another funeral procession.
She didn’t live long enough to have grandsons to carry her casket.
Instead it was her parents, her brother, family friends and a childhood nanny.
Her mother lowered her casket into the ground, saying –
“I brought her into the world. I’ll return her myself.”
The grief was as deep.
The sorrow as dark.
No, she didn’t have a cortege of cars with flashing lights led by an escort of bikes.
She wasn’t important to the nation.
Only to those who loved her.
She was eighteen.
A life lost before it could be fulfilled.
Cyber hugs and Blessings All. May you live to see your children’s children.