As many of you know, my son Sam passed away. This was March of last year. At times, I have great difficulty dealing with it. I have not questioned God as to why it had to happen to us, but it did.

Now to the story. I know I am not alone in the loss of a loved one. We all have made that trip to the cemetery. It is a lonesome journey. We read and reread the obituary, but nothing changes.

I need for you to know that this is not intended to cast dispersion on anyone that gathers the information and writes the obituaries.

Often we read where someone died. For some reason this seems so final. Passed away seems to rest easy with me. But we all have words that we use to express ourselves and to report.

We read where someone was buried. Buried. So fi- nal, so endless, so eternal.

Sam was not buried; he was laid to rest.

I know and believe that what is in the casket is only a body. I also know God did Sam a favor when He called him home. Sam was on life support and had at times had fevers of 109. That is correct. Sam is well off today. He has walked through “The valley of the shadow of death.” I also know our Savior is true and good.

We do see more funeral chapels now rather than funeral homes. But I don’t know what other we could call them. There have been funeral homes since way before I came into this world. This is just the way it is.

Again, this is not to chastise or belittle anyone. I appreciate the job that all associated with these sad times always help to get

us through them.

Sam was 35. I have two daughters that I love and to have to put one of them in the cold ground would be a task that only the grace of God could get me through……again.

I went as far as I could with Sam. I was with him when they put the dirt on the vault. Maybe now I can get on with things and thanks for letting me vent a little.