Visitation

The visitation last night was nice. It was held at Cecil Burton's funeral home in Shelby. It is in a classy old mansion that once belonged to the Thompson family. My mother and father were working in the Thompson lumber company and casket shop in 1939 when I was born. Cecil keeps six chickens out back, a tasteful distance from the mansion. They belong to his daughter. He eats the eggs. Sometimes the chickens run loose and have been known to come up to the elegant French doors during a viewing or reception.

Most of Brenda's former cooworkers were there, some old classmates and friends and two blood relatives - one of her cousins who happened to be in town and one of mine. (Neither of our families were/are big on staying in touch. My cousin Don and I swore to surprise one another and visit. I hope we do. I had forgotten what a smart dignified guy he is.)

Yancie and Allie (who looked very pretty in a black dress with a big pin) stayed in place greeting people who came by while I worked the crowd, shaking hands, clutching elbows, patting backs, maybe hugging some of my old female friends a little too long. Looking at myself from outside myself I couldn't decide whether I was appalled or amused. Randy who is a programmer spent a lot of time with Yudi and Larry two of my old friends who are also programmers.

Pictures of Brenda were on display showing her at various times of her life. There was the one black and white I especially like of her standing beside her family's Pontiac. Her hair was short and blond and her arms were shapely and bare. She leaned against the car, one foot thrust slightly forward in a model's pose which I know was natural and not calculated. Every guy of a certain age who stopped at that display looked at Brenda, said she was beautiful, then tried to guess the age of the Pontiac.

Maybe the saddest thing was one of Brenda's oldest and best friends who came despite an injury and illness. His partner and I had to half carry him to a chair where he sat crying and sleeping while I performed.