My Father’s Memorial Service, Or, Saturday Morning at 8:01am

Today is my father’s memorial service. I thought of posting what I will read, but, no. I thought of showing you what I’ll wear, but, definitely no. It won’t be pink? Is that sufficient?

Memorial services are, for me, already a particular straddle between public and private. My temperament lends itself either to intimate gatherings of wholehearted sharing, or public events where we communicate ideas about Topics with a capital T. A service is neither and both.

I loved my father like a map of the world. I knew him for a very long time. In a rare act of restraint, I’m going to stop before I’m done.

Have a wonderful weekend.