I went to the funeral of a mom today. My friend's mom. She lived down the road behind that barn with a bull painted on it in Newport by the bay as my Grammy used to say. She used to play Password with us. She was likely the most humble, Jesus-loving soul I have ever met. Someone at her funeral said she was humble and there is no better word. Lately I've been thinking a lot about humility and I realized today that am blessed with the memory of her humility in life. She was buried right here in a small cemetery with her ancestors.
There is a little wooden bridge over there beyond the cattails where my mother used to keep her row boat. She would ride her bike down the road, untie her boat and row out toward the Delaware Bay by herself. Later my father would take us crabbing, putting in our rowboat at the same bridge. What a final resting place!
She saved my grandfather's life some years ago when she checked on him. Every day since she called my grandfather, her next door neighbor, to check on him. She would say, "Hello, Good Neighbor!" And he would answer, "Hello, Good Neighbor!"
Good bye good Alynda, I will see you again someday.