The lights are on

It is a custom at the funeral home in my small community to turn on the outside lights any time there is a body at the home. It is their way of telling the community someone has passed away.

So, anytime the lights come on outside the funeral home there is great speculation as to who died. Then the gossip begins for the coffee drinkers at the local fast food place and those who sit at the liar’s wall at the truck stop. Questions, answers and speculation to how they died, why they died and what could have extended their lives. It doesn’t matter if they were nine or ninety, everyone has an opinion.

And most have a story about the deceased. Funny, sad, loving, truth or legend, the stories flow. Recently the lights have been on a lot giving the gossip groups plenty of fodder to chew on.

Behind each story is a person. A friend, a relative, a stranger we may only know by name or reputation never the less they are all people who have made some impact on our community. This is one of the great things about small town living. People care, they care enough to talk, to share, to laugh and to mourn the passing of one of our own.

Today I am going to the funeral of the father, of my best friend in high school. It is the fifth funeral in two weeks of people I have known and shared my life. Roy was very well known in the community. He never met a stranger and always had a story to share. One of his hobbies was making buttons. He was happy to tell you about all of the buttons he had made to recognize school athletic team accomplishments, holidays and special events.

Today I think Roy is probably at the Pearly Gates handing out buttons which read, “Welcome to Heaven”.

For now the lights are off at the funeral home. And the watch will begin again until the lights come on and the question is raised again. “Who died?” Certainly it will be someone we all know something about and we will have a story to tell about them.