A couple of stories:

Several years ago a musician friend died in a small remote town where we were all working. He went river rafting/fishing and just never came back. In a few weeks we had a service for him in a small old wooden church. We did okay until his brother got up and sang "Will the Circle". The dam burst. Years later we were fishing and I asked him why he did that, why he sang that song. "Folks needed to cry and I decided to give an excuse," he said

I gave the eulogy for my best friend and mentor a couple of years ago. I agreed, but had no idea how I would get through it. I cried for days before hand, I cried when I wrote the eulogy and I have never seen so many grown men weeping as at his funeral. Another friend sat beside me and was more afraid than I was of what he was going to do and how he could get through. I gave him my secret. "Just think while you're up there that Jerry is looking down and laughing at us, smiling with us." It worked.

When my turn came I started by looking up and smiling at Jerry. Then I looked down at the front row, at his wife and children. His wife had taken off her dark glasses and was looking right at me--smiling. That was the strength I needed. I made it right to the last word. "And may God hold you in the hollow of his ---" The word hand never did come out. I took my leave.

Two years ago my wife and I sang at my Dad's funeral, The Leaving Shanty." "It' time to go now, haul away down channel...

Haul away for heaven etc."

We made it through because we knew we had to. And because once again I began with a smile and knew he was listening.. However, we now perform a "cowboy" poem I wrote for my Dad. We have performed it about 20 times and I still don't take the risk. Cathryn does it and I back her with music. I will not do it unitl I know I have dealt with the emotions. It is enough for now that here are always tears in the audience. They don't need mine. They should not serve as my therapy.

And I still cry when I think of phoning either by Dad or my Mom, and realize I can't.

Richard Wright