My grandmother's service on Friday was very simple. Just a simple graveside service with a few family and friends. There was a Mass in the evening, where the priest read her name out as someone for the parishioners to keep in their prayers and remember.
The most tear-jerking moment though, came from a bird.
We were all keeping it pretty much decently together. We all knew this day was coming, and she was not doing well. She lived to almost see her 84th year, so she led a pretty full, amazing life. We'll miss her, don't get me wrong, but the service was more of a celebration rather than a traumatic event.
My grandmother loved to sit out on my parents' back porch and watch the hummingbirds. My mom has a few feeders, and the birds (for some reason) actually get along with each other. It's pretty frequent to see 10+ birds on one feeder. You can even go up and put your hands on the feeder, and they will eventually sit on your fingers. My grandmother would watch them for hours.
So there we are, the middle of the graveside service. The priest is talking. There is only one simple flower arrangement-- a casket spray of astromeria, roses, and carnations. And suddenly, a hummingbird zooms by and starts sipping and tasting the casket flowers.
The poor priest... we were all pointing and whispering, and he did not know what was going on. That little bird went from flower to flower. There were no hummingbirds at my grandfather's funeral.
It was probably just nature being nature. Bird saw flowers, bird sipped flowers. But to us, it was a kind reminder of the person we were saying goodbye to.
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