This is one of my favorite pictures of my father.
I was walking up into the choir loft at St. Francis of Assisi Church -- there was standing room only at the funeral of Jack Brahm, who had died so young.
I ascended the stairs, but looked back and saw my dad seated there at the bottom of the stairs by the back door of the church and my heart was just taken with the scene.
As I mentioned in my last post, funerals in the country are different from city funerals.
Looking down on my dad that day, I just thought the way he looked there encompassed something important about the way we here in Marion County commemorate the deaths of our loved ones.
Here, every death is personal. Every passing, important.