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May 17th, 2003

May 16, 2018


Along with many others I listened to the funeral service of former First Lady Barbara Bush.


I watched her grandsons carry her casket to the hearse.


I watched the video feed of the funeral procession.


I listened to the music.


I sat quietly.


She was admired, respected and loved.


God gave her a gift of ninety-two years.


My thoughts went to May 17th, 2003.


Another funeral service.


Only two people talked about her life.


Her mother and her sister-in-law.


Another funeral procession.


She didn’t live long enough to have grandsons to carry her casket.


Instead it was her parents, her brother, family friends and a childhood nanny.


Her mother lowered her casket into the ground, saying –


“I brought her into the world. I’ll return her myself.”


The grief was as deep.


The sorrow as dark.


No, she didn’t have a cortege of cars with flashing lights led by an escort of bikes.


She wasn’t important to the nation.


Only to those who loved her.


She was eighteen.


A life lost before it could be fulfilled.


Cyber hugs and Blessings All.  May you live to see your children’s children.





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