People die in the cold weather, as we all know, and sometimes you’ve got to be the one out there saying the appropriate words as they are laid to rest.
I did that this morning and the first thing I did when pulling up to the cemetery was peep out my car window to see if the mourners had hats on. They did not, so I left mine off, too. When in doubt, I take my cue from the folks I’m ministering to.
To whom I am ministering. Whatever. It’s Friday and we don’t have to be fancy and use correct grammar.
A former parishioner knitted me a beautiful stole-length scarf that I use for these occasions. I wore it stole style while doing the Committal and then wrapped it around me for warmth while the funeral director said a few words.
I love the special connection between funeral directors and clergy. This one I am just getting to know in my city a doll, too. He took my hand in his and said, “Have a merry and holy Christmas.” His eyes were full of care and I got a little teary. What a dear man. Some people just know how to lay on a blessing in a low-key way. It’s a gift.
I’m also showing you some pretty little vintage gloves I got somewhere, maybe a gift? The little embroidered detail sets these apart for formal occasions and I’m very glad I have them. I can hold my Kindle easily with them on, too, which isn’t possible with bulkier gloves.
Please don’t ever wear mittens to a Committal. Oh my God, I just thought of that. That would be so wrong, like, “AS SOON AS WE LAY GRANDPA TO REST WE’RE GONNA HAVE A SNOWBALL FIGHT, OKAY? THEN MOM’S GONNA MAKE HOT CHOCKY!” You will instantly be reduced in everyone’s eyes to a freckle-faced kid to whom they will want to feed Campbell’s tomato soup and grilled cheese and call “Tommy.”
Wear nice, grown-up gloves and go home and have some tomato soup and grilled cheese.