Memorial Weekend

This weekend is Memorial Weekend which for most people means the first lake trip or (around here) Alumni weekend. I went to the cemetery this morning to put new flowers out at Mom and Dad's and Jason's graves. Those trips always put me in a strange mood. I'm not especially saddened by the cemetery like I thought I would be; it is clear to me that the place should be honored because of the stones there that honor the dead, but that's all it is. I don't talk to the headstones or think about the remains of my family. The important part of Mom, Daddy, and Jason are not there, so I don't dwell on the physical. What happens is that I think of them and the impact they had on my life. Therefore, I'm going to spend the weekend writing my thoughts about the important people in my life who have already passed.
My first experience with death was when my father-in-law, Fred Humphrey, passed away in 1988. He was such a great man. I always liked him, but I began loving him when Jason was born. He was the best grandad ever. He and Jason had a bond that I'm certain lives on in eternity. He passed on his love and respect for horses that served Jason well throughout his life. Allison was born on his birthday, and that gave them a wonderful connection. Carson was only five months old when he died, so he has no real memories of Grandad. I hope we have told Carson enough that he knows what kind of influence Grandad was on all of us.
I still remember his laugh; it was so infectious. He was a cowboy to the bone and love being around others who loved horses. He was a daily coffee shop visitor and had every waitress in town anxious to take care of him because he knew how to schmooze, a skill he taught Jason.
I loved the way he took care of his mother. She thought he hung the moon and looked forward to his daily visits. He and his sister, Aunt Polly, had an enviable closeness. I always said that I would be pleased if my children were as close in their adult lives and the two of them.
His death changed our family. It makes me very sad that his influence ended too soon. Fifty-eight years is just not enough time on this earth. He would have so loved watching all the grandkids in their high school years. He would have been so proud of Jason and Kirby following in his footsteps into the horse training business.
One thing that is certain though. When a person dies young, he is saved from some of the heartache that we have all had to face. I know that losing Jason would have been too much for him. I guess since God knows that big picture, I have to rely on Him to know what's best.