There were only a few of us at the cemetery on Monday to bury Lorraine. I didn’t think I would write about this day because it was such a hard day, harder then the day before when her memorial service was held. This day was so final.
A brand new thought came to me today so I’ve decided to write about it after all. Here’s how it went. The Veteran’s Cemetery is the most beautiful cemetery I’ve ever been in. Yes, I’ve been to the National Veteran’s Cemetery in Washington DC. We found where the burial would be, with her late husband, George. A woman from the cemetery was there and the man who did the burying. They were both so respectful and kind to us. It was so sad. There were two containers of dirt beside the hole. The man carefully and lovingly lowered the box and then began carefully putting dirt in making sure it went around it. He didn’t just dump the dirt in, no, he carefully put in small amounts at a time, then tamped it down, added more and repeated the process until he was done. It took a while but he was very patient, careful and respectful. He smiled at us so sadly.
The man happened to be a black man and the thought occurred to me that we still give the black folks the lowest jobs. What is lower than burying someone?
Today, however, a new thought came to me. Lorraine and I often talked about our feelings about black folks. Neither of us is or was prejudiced. We often discussed our dad being the director of interracial evangelism for our general church. We were both so proud of him and knew that he did a good work.
So the new thought that came to me today was this: Lorraine would have been proud and pleased to be buried by a black man, especially one as kind and gentle as this man was. I wish I could tell him so. I hope he knew our thanks were genuine, although this new thought hadn’t come to me on that day. He is my hero!