We met Miss Lucille our first Sunday at church after moving to The Middle West over a decade ago. Already a widow, she warmly took us under her wing and we enjoyed many a root beer float sitting around the table at her house after evening worship.
Word came last weekend that she had passed at age 95; she was buried today under grey early-Spring skies in a cemetery bordered on three sides by farm ground.
Growing up in the South, I remember Mom or Dad pulling over to “pay respects” when a funeral was passing, and was touched again today as folks paused for a moment to honor someone they never knew.
Cars play a significant role in our lives, but they also can turn into a bubble that insulates us from the outside world as we hurry between points A and B. Today was a poignant reminder that there’s more to life (and death) than making the next appointment.