It has become pretty clear to me that many people die without family available or even around at all to arrange a funeral. I wrote recently about the impromptu funeral for a man at my parish, arranged by several of his friends. Within the last month, a fellow parishioner who found a long time friend dead in his apartment, guarded by his labrador, asked me to help her interact witht the Coroner's Office and Public Administrator in hopes that there might be some instrucitons for his disposition and someone named to handle it. So far, in the latter case, no luck and frankly, the bureaucracy is not rushing to assess. As of this writing, it is more than three weeks since that man's death and his apartment is still sealed awaiting investigation of whatever he migiht have left behind.
Kelly Palmer was a sixty year member of our parish. I was told that his funeral was Monday, February 18, at 10 a.m. and parishioners were being encouraged to attend. Since that request was made of me, twice, although I could not conjure an image of the man that was described to me--it turns out that he usually attended the Saturday 5:30 services and I am a regular at the Sunday 12:15--we are a community of believers, a family in our own way, and I felt that I ought nt to turn down the invitation. Truth be told, I find these final services to be very life affirming in a paradoxical way, and they serve to enhearten my faith, which can always use a little enheartening in this often cruel world. So, I went, meeting up with many familiar parishioners and hoping that I'd learn a little about another person I seem to have "met" only after he passed on.
There is a blood family, in Sacramento, but for some reason they could not be present. There was no explanation why and as we wended through the lovely, gentle service orchestrated by some long time friends of Kelly's, he clearly had love in his life, this man who made nearly 93 years on this earth.
I love these early picutres. Kelly was just a couple of years younger than my fasther (now dead nearly five years) and I got a little teary eyed at seeing the middle baby picture--the naked one on the rug--which could have been of my father, but for the fact that this little one had blonde hair in his infancy.
Look how quickly life passes; there he is a handsome young man, starting on his road of individuation and generativity. I learned during the eulogies that he worked for SAS, and loved to travel; later he seems to have run an American Express office and was beloved by those whom he hired and with whom he worked. He loved to dine out, with as many friends as he could. In his later life, ill health became a reality, till he was so bent over he could hardly walk. But always he was sustained by his faith and the community, our community, St. Victor's.
Fr. Lopez was again the celebrant amd again, though he did not know Kelly, his words spoke of the deep friendship of the commonality of belief, a faith that we will all meet again in God's garden of pure love.
What a lovely handoff to the Lord was this service. And the reception was held right outside on our little veranda, finger sandwiches and deviled eggs and fruit and champagne. His friend Chuck, led the toast to a life well lived and well ended.
And Death shall have no dominion.
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