(that's me with the untamed hair)
Annie
Noah
Nathanael
So, this is how we spent part of our day Monday. Sad, but not without hope (through the Lord Jesus Christ of Nazareth). As I looked around, I realized once again that Art thrived in NOT drawing attention to himself. He was so low-key, I'd forgotten what a great artist he was. And what a great calligrapher (Camille has a permanent sample of his work through her college quilt). Or that he fought long ago in far-away in Korea (He must have watched M*A*S*H often). His grandkids were super-excited because of the great crowd of friends and relatives. It put a smile in my face that they had needed their mother Janice's reassurance earlier that morning that the
E kids were indeed going to be in attendance. The luncheon afterwards was great, so I heard. I needed to be in Evanston with the children so I didn't go; but Romy said it was well-attended and the food was delish.
Today, Tuesday, is the burial.
Our chance for a final salute to a great man.
He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust...
~ Psalm 91 (Soldier's Psalm)
