Tommy's Celebration

I know it seems weird to blog on a funeral but when they are exceptional I guess they need blogging.

The Lee family (my mom's side) is an unusual group, in a good way, a creative way, a weirdly wonderful way. Tommy was the epitome of all that. I think his triangle house on old US 81 near Summit SD is an example. He wanted a house that had only south, east and western exposures. Heat and light you know. So he built this house. Facing pointing north so when the cold north wind blew it blew right past the house.

I won't canonize him. I knew him too well. So if you have opinions, keep them to yourself. He was unusual, creative, loving, a good dad to his kids and quirky.

His kids aren't much different. So when we laid him to rest in the Hope Lutheran Church cemetery in Summit it was an event.

That little church hadn't seen so many. The overflow for lunch was more than they had signed up for.

It was packed out. Even the businesses in town closed so people could come to the funeral. All in all a great program.

He was buried in a simple tan shirt with a pack of Marlboros in his pocket (I think they were Marlboros). The casket was one like I want. Very simple, caskety, all wood, unvarnished softly stained. I'm sure it was not what the funeral director planned to collect for but it was beautiful in it's elegance and simplicity.

The young Norwegian pastor did the service in a young Norwegian pastor way. He read all the right passages and I think we prayed the Lords prayer 4 or 5 times. It seems like praying the Lords prayer in the Lutheran Church is when you have nothing else to say you end some brief comments with the words, "as our Lord taught us to pray.............." And off you go.

It was the music that impressed me. Of course we had How great thou art, amazing grace. You know, standard fare sung by a well meaning baritone or something. But then the CD player was fired up and they played Neil Young's Daddy went Walking. It was wonderful. Then a little later (after another round of the Lords Prayer) Eric Clapton sang My Fathers Eyes. Read the lyrics, at the end there wasn't a dry eye in the house. I was not really familiar with either of these songs but they were a perfect fit. Here's a Music Video of My Fathers eyes.

At the end as people were ushered out of the church to go to the cemetery the CD player haunted us with the Five Blind Boys of Alabama singing Swing Low Sweet Chariot, Coming for to Carry me Home.

And we did.

It was great to see all the relation. I'm glad I went. It was my kind of funeral. I told Peggy to take notes. When I Go, Celebrate. There'll be time for mourning later.

I'm sure Kathryn misses him. Seeing the pain of separation was almost too much for me. She rubbed his hand in the casket as to say, don't go. But he was already gone.
The kids at the cemetery were in real travail.

Goodbye is so hard. I said way too many this week.