Wednesday, October 24, 2007


That's what they call them where I work. And I don't mean magazines. What I have is some serious anger issues with my mother about the way my father was treated and with that preacher that she wanted for his (really her) funeral.

So to deal with that, I do what I do -- look up info and write. If you go back in the archives, you'll see that I started a more complete obituary for Daddy. Today I pulled up info on writing a good eulogy, something that preacher wouldn't know if it grabbed him by both ears. I should mail copies of this to him, along with an explanation of eulogies.
I found the poem that should have been read at the funeral. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night by Dylan Thomas. I thought of my father the very first time I read it.

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