This is not my typical blog post.
I debated about this.
I finally decided that I had to write something.
How could I not?
On Friday, September 4th, we laid my father's body to rest.
This is one of the trucks that escorted my dad for his "final run".
The trucking industry calls this "bob-tailing"
(A long time ago my dad had to explain it to me.)
We had two trucks in the procession.
My dad served in the army for 13 years.
We had Military Funeral Honors.
If you look at the tent you can see the honor guard detail waiting for our arrival.
I can't take credit for all of the photos in this post.
I only took a few.
The cover for the casket.
It turned out really nice.
My dad loved wolves.
No words for this touching photo.
Standing attention.
Dad's name.
Playing of Taps.
I knew the graveside part would be the most difficult part for me.
It was so touching and moving.
Full of honor and respect.
I had never witnessed the folding and presentation of the flag before...
and when I was handed the flag and saluted...
I crumbled.
My dad would have loved it... except for the part that it was for him.
One thing did happen that made me chuckle.
After the ceremony was finished, one of the grandchildren came to me and
congratulated me on getting the flag.
I knew what she meant.
I immediately thought of all the times my dad talked about how kids say the darnedest things.
