Hanging out by the exit

 Notes while at the funeral of a friend: 

This is how it all ends, as a piece of paper in hands at your funeral. a few lines about the things that mattered. 

Family+faith+providing+career+hobbies. 

10:30 am Not many here, but I;m early. I suppose attendance at a funeral is driven by when we die. Churches are packed when the dead is under 30. Die at 85 and the only people left are your pastor, your family and a few others. 

10:45 am Big clap of feedback from the AV system of this little church (aging janitor type guy in pony tail finally figures it out).

Guitar instrumental very nice... In the Garden. Old Rugged Cross. A very plain Baptist church, like those I grew up in.  Painted pallets nailed to wall behind pastor. (an homage to warehouses?) One wooden cross. 

As is the custom with all Christian faiths, the Pastor proclaims that the deceased is in heaven (though he does not really know this, and does not know that he doesn't know). Nice sermon and obviously one who cared about this man. 

This is a real funeral, though program calls it a celebration of life. There is a body and a casket and tears and a wife and a preacher. Not a jar of ashes to be found anywhere. Good move. 

11:32 am Cue the mourner who does not know to turn off a phone when inside a church attending a religious ceremony. 

11:33 am In the silence of the sanctuary, you can hear the same phone vibrating as voicemail arrives.  

I chat with the guitarist on the way out. He is talented and knew the proper decorum for a funeral. There is hope for his generation, as mine hangs around the exit, waiting for people like him, and the pastor, to show us the way home.