She said, “It looks like a gift box. It’s better than I had imagined.” We hugged after the short, but incredibly authentic funeral service. “He was a gift to me.”
“Now it’s a gift box for the earth.” I replied, happy that we (a very collective we) were able to make this happen and of course so sad that I, as is usual, was the only one that really didn’t know him.
This funeral last week should have been so much easier for the family. It really shouldn’t have taken all the parties that ended up being involved, to be involved. The desire to bury on your own property is not some thought that people just throw out there, it’s calculated or inbuilt (ie. in the nature of the person).
After the bureaucratic nightmare that had carried on for weeks, we were stood there with this deeply loved, cherished and respected man in his gift box for the earth. Gently lowered by myself, his friends and family, into this resting place on the family property. His son down in the grave and guiding his father down really got to me. This is what Rest is about, to say goodbye your way.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for trusting and allowing me to be a part of this personal experience. We will now continue to push for change because – in the words of the family – that’s what he would have wanted.
& 
at the same time…