Ramblings

I am having trouble posting things on the discussion page of the Fitz Web page. For awhile I was just communicating with myself. But at least the posts were visible but since then things have gone down hill. Now all of my posts are just #'s.

I probably didn't have anything profound to say anyway. Maybe it is just as well that thay were not published. I've got to get the hang of all this new fangled stuff so I can really have my say. So far they are all complaints about my inadequacies. Don't complain, just explain. An Irish proverb : 'It's a bad hen that won't scratch herself. ' Whatever that means!

Today I went to Dick Milburn's funeral. Last evening, Doc and I went to the viewing at Pearsons' funeral home in St. Matthews. I was quite surprised and pleased that Doc concented to go. When I asked if he wanted to go with me and said, "Yes, he was a good person and a good neighbor." We met other neighbors and former neighbors there. The one's that still remember Doc walking around the block for all those years, were glad to see him and greeted him very lovingly. Debbie Haddad was there and she and I had a small reunion. She cried and said how much she still misses all of us. The three remaining Milburn boys were doubly pleased to see us and were very affectionate. Today I went to the funeral. Doc wasn't up for that. Once again we met many former and present day neighbors. The funeral itself, was very different. First the open casket was in front of the lecturn and the minister opened the ceremony with reading the eulogy, word for word, from the news paper. Dick had written it in prepararion of his death. Then the minister tried to tell his story of knowing Dick. It was very poorly stated and actually no picture of Dick was in the words. After the whole church stood and sang a hymn the "pastor" asked for one of Dick's friends to give the formal eulogy. It was one of Dick's best friends and he was very,very good. He had some great stories and really gave a true picture of his friend. We could all laugh and also shed some tears. I'll digress a moment here, the minister described Dick as a quiet man, and we all knew him to be very loud. After Rose Lee, he was the loudest neighbor we had. After the friend, volunteers from the crowd spoke. They were also very good and really eulogized Dick appropriately. Dick had talked to me recently about his Grandson, Stan JR. who he said was having a really hard time getting over or dealing with his dad's death. Stan died on Derby Day, Dick said he had been doing all he could do to help him cope but had finally recommended that he get professional help. That grandson volunteered to speak and Dick would have been very proud of him, he was wonderful. Other friends and another Grandson spoke and then we sang Amazing Grace while smelling the odor of roast beef wafting through the air. As closure, the 'Pastor' invited everyone to meet in theFellowship Room for lunch prepared by the women from the congration and" thank you all for coming." Not even an Amen. I'm not being critical I am just giving an account of a Prespeterian funeral for a good man that will be sorely missed in the 'hood.