The day i was a Paul Bearer.....

December 17th 2007 is a moment that i will always remember as the day I was a Paul bearer. I've carried crosses, books, people, pain, joy, and a multitude of other inanimate feelings.... but never had i carried a casket.... Heavy and sluggish six men much older than myself carried him through the cemetery.. Counting the tombstones like the stars at night.. i glanced over at the names and dates of the skeletons that rested in their plots... Each lethargic step over the frozen ground made it clear that death is not a racist... It does not prefer blonde's over brunettes, men to women, skinny or overweight... Strange, but it comforted me to know that Death doesn't discriminate...The wind whipped at our backs as if we had done something terribly wrong.. Blood red carnations hung in our hands, those stars and stripes that he had once fought for in his stint as a patriot, those same stars that once illuminated his life and made his rural heart beat.... Its funny that paying our respects didn't cost us a thing.. as the flag draped over his coffin like a child's blanket....We stood in our Sunday's best on Monday and went back to the church to talk about eternity....