It was cold, cold , cold this morning… 17 degrees at Hillside Farm. The air was more than crisp and I could smell the smoke from wood stoves as I gave Maverick The Dog his morning walk. The mud of wintry mix was hardened into jagged spires much as I would imagine a miniature version of the mountains of the moon.
Izze was going on a field trip to the museum in Cincinnati with her cousin, Montana and Vanessa and I were heading to the little country town of Zaleski, Ohio where my friend Pat Morgan was being laid to rest. The service was at the St. Sylvester Catholic Church and we wanted to be a little early.
Zaleski is a tiny little town off SR 278 on the way to Lake Hope but on this day it was a funeral we were going to, not brunch at the Lake Hope Lodge.
Pat Morgan was my friend Kevin’s brother. I had known him casually for a number of years and over the last year we found ourselves to be members of the same fellowship. There is no rhyme nor reason for the cards in the hand that life deals us. Pat was found dead in the bed of a pickup truck stabbed thirty times. His story and his struggles are now over. I was at this same church a couple of years ago when his Dad passed and today I was able to hug his mom and express my condolences. It is not right that a parent should outlive their children… but again, right doesn’t have much to do with anything.
It was a beautiful service and it was gratifying to see family and friends… all, regardless of affiliation, getting comfort. In my life I have been in dangerous places, leading a dangerous life and but for the grace of G_d, it could have been me in that box years ago. I am a grateful man today.
At the end of the service, we all drove to a tiny country graveyard on a small hilltop and Pat was laid to rest. I was asked to play a song as they lowered the coffin and I was honored to do so! I played, What Are They Doing In Heaven Today?
‘Peace if flows, like a river they say. What are they doing there now?’
I have loved the Morgan family for years… they are like my own. Pat and I were not bros, but we were brothers in a very profound way. Fair winds and following seas brother… sail on! There are many rooms in my father’s house, and in one of those rooms Pat, there is a table sitting for you.