A couple of weeks ago I, whose organizational chops are not equal to setting up a two-car motorcade, contrived to organize and get through my father's funeral at the San Francisco Presidio National Cemetery. I am astonished that I did not fuck up.
The kindness and efficiency of the VA and cemetery officials who were involved in the affair cannot be overstated: the entire family, and I in particular, will be forever grateful for their efforts.
Der Alte's remains were in a container the size of a shoebox, but surprisingly heavy as I lowered them into the hole. The presence of my siblings, of most of my nieces and nephews, and of a few of the following generation, made the ceremony a little easier. My thanks to all.
Monday, July 27, 2015
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