He takes a flower and gently places it right by his father’s coffin – he smiles to convince himself that his old fella is still breathing
Beating the band as it were
His own silly little interpretation however wayward it may well get to be
Always with the humour, of course
He looks at his mother, willing her along
The sentimental and strong older son – forever there, especially of a jaded day when utmost necessary
She lifts her face and smiles to remind him that she cares where all of her family are placed more so than ever now
Holding her beloved broach her husband presented to her on their silver wedding
His younger brother is missing, noticeably so
Away at war, shaking it up to make his Pap proud either way
And the sermon begins to make sense again, popular folk the village over kneeling into silenced place for their reminiscent worth – they’ve come bearing many a gift, precious reminders of a most beautiful man, part of their happy clan
The family man, in fact, who took this village upon his shoulders once and brought them all with him
They smile for seven rows over, only too glad and sad to be there – and lean on in to whisper what soon gets to become a thousand memories deep