Saying Goodbye, Part 2

This posting will probably be more photos than commentary...

Saturday morning began with Tim and I going over to the church to help carry the casket in for the ceremony. It was a bit awkward, but only because the other pallbearers were in their suit and ties, while we had just come over in our jeans and t-shirts. It was good to see pastor Ralph Shupe at the church, but I couldn't get over the "what are you wearing?" look that I got... we probably only got away with it because of the grief thing.

After going back to shower and change, Carrie and I re-arrived at the church for the viewing. Mom and Dad had brought a number of Grandpa's favorite things and set up a display table as people came in.

Grandpa looked "good" (what does that mean- when I look good, do I look dead?) in his military uniform, and he had chosen a beautiful casket (although the eagle motif was a bit weird). I will admit that it was difficult to come face to face with him in this setting, but it did not impact me as deeply as I had imagined. Perhaps I was OK with him going home. I also placed "PeePa's hat" into the casket for him to take home... I'll relay that story some other time.
In the two hours of the reception, one of the more unique aspects is that we were able to reconnect with a number of our very distant relatives. With my mother being an only child, we really only knew those friends of hers who lived around Oak Hill. However, last summer there was a Coleman family reunion in Charleston that both mom and Grandpa went to. Since then, folks have done a bit better job at staying in touch, and many came to the funeral.
This is my great aunt Lula and her daughter Loretta. Those of us who had not seen her in a while were all amazed at how similar she looked to Grandpa. My great aunt Rae (Grandma Coleman's sister) also came to the service, and seeing her and aunt Lula next to each other was like looking at the past- the similarieties to their sibling were striking.

During the viewing, my father had created a powerpoint with some of the pictures and stories from the book that was created. It was good to hear people talk about how they appreciated learning more about his life.
The service started at 1:00, and was an amazing testimony to my grandfather's faith. The people of the church went all out to talk about his life with them, and the music represented his favorite hymns. Again, it was a trip down memory lane just to be able to connect with some of these people who had been a part of my childhood- not only do I have the Jones Avenue Church choir in the memories of church with my grandparents, but they are in my life soundtrack due to my grandmother's playing of the tapes and albums the choir had recorded. To this moment, I can pick Lawrence Wood's voice out of a crowd.

I was asked to speak and sing what has now become our family funeral song- "Great is Thy Faithfulness". I talked a bit about how I had often said that I was who I was because of the example of my grandfather. I said that this was not completely accurate- that I could only hope to be the man of God that my grandfather was.

Pastor Bradley (pastor during the 80's) spoke about my grandfather being a soldier in all ways- his faithful service, his steadfast witness, his integrity. He talked about his role in the "Lord's army", and how he had now gone onto his heavenly reward. Pastor Shupe spoke about Grandpa's relationship with grandma, and reminded us that they were now together. My father prayed the benediction, and reminded people that Grandpa was who he was because of his hope in Christ. He even invited people to accept the Lord and be assured of this same hope. Given that he had lost three parents in the last year and a half, I was impressed with his ability to to present the good news in such a powerful way.
For the recessional, the organ and pianist played an old Church of God hymn- "I'm Going On". Carrie and Tim were unfamiliar with this, and were somehow convinced that the song was "The Farmer In The Dell". Yup- those are my family.

Once we got to the cemetery, things became more emotional (at least for me). Grandpa's casket was draped in the flag, and we were greeted at the gravesite by the honor guard. Pastor Shupe said a prayer and read scripture, and then turned it over to the military. They began with "Roll call", where the senior officer called every person's name and rank, and those servicemen present replied "here, Sergeant". I thought that this was normal protocol, until he called "Master Sergeant James Emmit Coleman". Obviously there was no response. He called this name again, and a serviceman produced and presented a helmet with a camoflage cover. The senior officer called again, and no response led to the helmet being placed atop a rifle that had been stuck into the ground by its bayonet.
Next came the three volleys from the honor guard. This used to be my grandfather's role- to call these ceremonies when other servicemen were buried. After the funeral, they gathered the spent casings to present to my mom, although I cannot imagine what she will do with them. This was followed by a rendition of 'taps', which was too good to be live (Dad and I talked later about the recording and the player that the serviceman had hidden in the bell of his intrument).
Finally, the flag was removed from the casket and folded. The servicemen presented it to a young woman who was standing in full uniform near the gravesite. She then took it to my mother and presented it with the words "On behalf of my family and a greatful nation..." Turns out that she was a neighbor of my grandfather who had been in Junior ROTC in highschool because of his influence on her life. Let the record show that this is when I broke down.
We then went back to the church, where (in good ChoG tradition) there was a pitch-in dinner of gastronomic challenges. Cheesecake, cake cake, various and sundry casseroles... oh the joys of church food. There are no calories in Christian charity, right?

Next- visiting the wild, wonderful part of West Virginia.