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A non-crime related post: A day of remembering.

Today, I went to a service. I really don’t know what else I could call it.

The hospice that helped with my grandmother holds a service each year for those that have passed. It is an opportunity for family and friends to remember those they have lost.

Some words are spoken, hymns are sung.

They read the names of the those that have passed.

They close by showing a picture of each we have lost.

Today I cried more than I have since Feronia Mattix passed away on April 15th. While over six months have passed, it felt as though it was yesterday. The tears came long and hard. Not simply those that flow gently down our cheeks as we weep quietly.

There was nothing gentle about it. Every once of my strength was required not to fill the room with violent, loud sobs of pain. My throat muscles were constricted as tight as pos so as to not let those sounds escape. For if they did, there would be no stopping them. Folks several blocks away would have heard my anguish, my loss.

As painful as it was, it was good to remember and to mourn. In those closing moments, as I watched the imagines of folks unfamiliar, I thought about who they might be. About how special they were and how their loved ones had also come to this place to remember them and to cry.

Some pictures were recent, some obviously of many years gone by. Some from weddings, some from birthdays. Some were staged portraits, some were spur of the moment. There was a beautiful one of a lady with a big smile, unfortunately caught as she blinked.

Each of these people, whether they died old or young, have enriched the lives of those of us that had gathered. It was good to come together to honor their memories and to share our grief and our love with others that have experienced the seemingly unbearable loss of one close to them.

Grandmother, I love you and I miss you.

Jeremy Lynch
Grandson of Feronia Mattix
Dec 13th, 1906 to Apr 15th, 2006