Life is what happens when you have other plans.
I wanted to wrap familiarity and comfort around this day. I have the memory of long reflective bike rides accross the flat prairie of Central Illinois with an open, receptive mind. A memory of a few inspirational words that hang a framework. Of the quiet delight and soothing satisfaction of saying what I want to say. What I need to say. Sitting in Joe Sipper's Cafe in Effingham. Satisfied, and a little more complete. Finding meaning in life's major events.
Perhaps it is not to be today. I don't really feel inspired. I'm plagued by little details that want clarification. Did we contact the pallbearers? We did not. A few calls and we're done.
Who picks up the funeral fliers from the printer in Effingham to deliver to St. Elmo? Was that clear? Will anyone? Should I call now? It's too early.
Will I cry? Yes, maybe. I have nice tight compartments, rated waterproof. We'll see if they will withstand the immersion. I don't really mind if people around me, who knew me, who loved me, who still love me, see me wet with tears.
Today, a farewell. Farewells. To my father, Billy Lee Belden. To St. Elmo. Will I return? To Joe Sipper's? Is this the last bit of prairie writing?
Or does the Maker have other plans?