Kleenex
Noel Laflin
2-3-18
I donned a
long sleeve shirt and attended a memorial service for a young man this
afternoon. It seems this good shirt only see the likes of funerals or weddings
nowadays. And although a wedding would
have been a happier occasion, the memorial service brought together many, many
friends.
There was
standing room only by the time the minister stood to greet the overflowing
crowd.
Former
coaches of the young man being honored today, along with best friends, and
lastly his fiancée, gave fine, heartfelt eulogies. Dylan’s mom, my old friend of many years,
made a moving video about her son. I do
not know how she found the strength to do so – but she did so with grace,
dignity, and a touch of humor – oh, just a touch, but it was enough. Dylan would have loved it.
My white
shirt stood out in some ways, as most folks wore their favorite football
jerseys, by which to honor Dylan’s passion for the sport. If I owned a jersey,
I would have worn it as well. As it
turned out, I found myself seated next to a young man also without a jersey, nor
handkerchief, nor tissue. He was in need
shortly into the service. I passed along some Kleenex. He thanked me and apologized
for the unexpected waterworks. I smiled and just nodded as way of
acknowledgement.
I was suddenly
reminded of the time my daughter passed a box of Kleenex over to her
grandfather during my mom’s funeral. It
was another packed crowd in another church in another century. Krysten was four at the time. The passing of
the tissue to my dad is the only recollection she has of that day.
But, it’s
not a bad memory at all.
