From Rusty

[wiffleball 4,679]

I gave the eulogy yesterday and played Taps at the military graveside services today.

 

Talk about a couple of tough gigs.

 

My eulogy must have been impressive, because I had scores of people coming up to me at the reception, not only complimenting me on it but ASKING FOR A COPY OF IT. I've never heard of such a thing.

 

I was going to play something called "Echo Taps," with my sister today. It's kind of Row Row Row Your Boat Taps, but my sister said she just couldn't do it.

 

When I called the Veterans Funeral Service to make sure some bugler didn't show up, they told me that many from families had tried to stand up there and play Taps, but they just couldn't do it. He said they'd have a "bugler"

on standby.

 

Not once, to their knowledge, have family or friends played Taps at a Veterans Cemetery burial, and they said that although they supported my desire to do so, I needed to keep all that in mind.

 

I didn't find out until today that this so-called bugler actually didn't play his bugle. Basically, he was going to stand there with a bugle and then PLAY A TAPE.

 

That pretty much sealed the deal for me. I knew what I had to do for my father, my family and myself.

 

I figured that since I didn't crack once during my 5-minute eulogy, I could nail the 24 notes that is Tapst.

 

So there we were today at the cemetery. Two old vets in uniform gave very stirring and emotional messages. I was summoned to stand beside the coffin.

 

The others in the detail fired the traditional six-gun volley, and then their leader gave me a nod.

 

And I closed my eyes and blasted Taps so all of those Heaven could hear, the sound of my trumpet resonating loud, clear and strong as the onlookers stood with dropped-jawed amazement.

 

I let the last note hang before I set it free.

 

I opened my eyes to see stunned looks and clenched, shaking fists, as if they were saying to me, "WOW, THAT WAS INCREDIBLE."

 

I was motioned to sit down, and they presented my mother with the American flag in one of the most touching things I've ever seen in my life.

 

But that's not what hit me straight in the heart.

 

One of the military guysl rounded up all the shells from the six-gun volley.

(It's not called a 21-gun salute, as some people believe.) Then he handed them in a bag to my mother.

 

I almost lost it right there, but it's what happened next that will forever put a lump in my throat when I think about it.

 

The leader of the veterans group came up and shook my hand, and in his hand there was something, an object he clearly meant for me to have.

 

It was a shell from the gun salute, given to the only son, who had the stones to stand up and pay tribute to his father.

 

I had a great deal of sadness last Sunday as I loaded a lifetime's worth of photos of my dad for a beautiful slideshow shown yesterday at the reception.

There will be many sad moments to come.

 

But for me, knowing that I rose to the challenge of the eulogy, which I'll post on my blog at some point soon, and playing "Taps" in a way that I hope would make my father proud, I can move forward with the mission of ensuring that my dad's life is not forgotten, and that my children pass it down to their children.

 

My father's father died when I was in elementary school. Like my dad, it was a stroke. I remember coming into the house and seeing my dad sitting in a chair, head hung low, sad but not in tears.

 

Then, in silence, we went out to the front yard and started raking. I never really fully understood why. There wasn't much to rake, but we did it anyway, with little more than the sound of metal on grass. At one point, I broke the silence by asking him if I could go with him. He said he appreciated the gesture, but it was probably best if he just went alone.

 

This morning, I grabbed two decades-old rakes out of the garage, and when we got back home, I told my sons about the day their pawpaw's father died.

 

And then we gathered up the old rakes, plus one I already had, and went into the back yard.

 

It wasn't like it was with my father. My boys are far younger than I was, and there was a hell of a lot of leaves to rake. And there wasn't much in the way of silence, either.

 

Instead, it was the sound of innocence, happiness and a little hard work. We raked up a leaf pile the size of an SUV.

 

It filled my heart with pride and joy.

 

And I would like to believe that this is how my father would have wanted it to be.

 

 

[Ravens 03 0]

That's the 2nd time this week he has brought a tear to my eyes.

 

 

 

GB Old Man Syringes. RIP

[pingpong 0]

I think I just swallowed a golfball.

[TommyGavin 790]

excellant job

[Recliner Pilot 61]

Awesome Rusty.

 

[DuckStupid 40]

[Riddlen 1]

Rusty is an asstard that annoys the hell out of me, but that was a great sentiment,

[Lionsjunkie 1]

Nice job man

[drobeski 3,061]

Rusty is the man.

Sorry about your loss.

[Giants Fan 85]

God speed.

[Concrete Charlie 0]

Thanks for sharing that

[Franknbeans 46]

[cmh6476 774]

i cried

[wiffleball 4,679]

Monday bumper.

[Rusty Syringes 478]

Thanks, guys.

 

I posted my eulogy in my blog, if anyone is interested in reading it.

 

Death sucks.

 

[cmh6476 774]

Thanks, guys.

 

I posted my eulogy in my blog, if anyone is interested in reading it.

 

Death sucks.

 

it sure does.

 

 

It will be 3 years this May since my brother passed away. I guess it gets easier, but inside it doesn't feel like it's getting any easier. Now my dad's gone, and just so many things are changing. My daughter will be turning two, getting ready to have a son, my mom is becoming a counselor...

 

It just feels like you have to keep living your life and doing what you're doing, all the while wondering if they are here somehow sharing in everything that is transpiring in your own life. Or is it all for naught, and we're just gone when you die. You sure hope not, but it just seems ridiculous that possibly you would have to live all those years here on Earth without the people you truly care about. If it were really all that and a box of chocolates, then why couldn't you still physically share in all these lifely experiences with those that have already passed on.

 

 

[gratefulted 14]

Thanks, guys.

 

I posted my eulogy in my blog, if anyone is interested in reading it.

 

Death sucks.

 

The song "Death Don't Have No Mercy" says it all, things will get better

 

 

Beatles stuff almost complete

[RunRastaRun 0]

Absolutely beautiful.

 

Sorry for your loss.

[Chronic Husker 85]

Wow.

 

Where did you get this, wiffle? I don't see it in the blog.

[jerryskids 5,393]

Wow.

 

Where did you get this, wiffle? I don't see it in the blog.

Sanctuary?

 

Anyway... gawd dam that was touching. I lost my dad when I was 18, long before I had kids of my own. But that rake story really got to me.

 

May God bless your father in heaven, Rusty, and your family during this time.

[Rusty Syringes 478]

Wow.

 

Where did you get this, wiffle? I don't see it in the blog.

 

 

Naw, it was just an e-mail I wrote to wiffle.

 

I might re-tool it for my blog at some point in the next few days and then just leave it at that for a while.

 

Writing profusely about it has somehow given me an outlet and some closure.

[Chronic Husker 85]

Naw, it was just an e-mail I wrote to wiffle.

 

I might re-tool it for my blog at some point in the next few days and then just leave it at that for a while.

 

Writing profusely about it has somehow given me an outlet and some closure.

Understood.

 

Now get it in the focking blog.

[JasperisOK 0]

Truly sorry to hear of your loss. God Bless and Best Wishes...

 

VERY touching story... thank you for sharing