Austin, TEXAS, January 11, 2006 — Regardless of what you think about services after adeath, they allow people to mark that someone lived and what they did. I've always thought a good crowd at a funeral was a good thing unless you were a head of state or someone killed in some important way where people think the thing is a 'must do' event. We once had to flee Manhattan and go early to the airport to avoid the congestion and security around the death of a cardinal. That's not what I mean. Not politicians and media making appearances. No, I mean somebody's mother, wife, grandmother, sister, friend. And eh people who knew her, know the family, are friends of her grown children showing up, swelling the crowd.

Listening to a capsule of what she was about and nodding their heads. I read the obituary in the little handout as we stood at the graveside. Married at seventeen. Sure to outlive her older husband. But she didn't.

The service was at a little cemetery south of Waco. So I drove my dad's van with he and two friends in tow to and fro. We spent time in the car batting the conversational ball. Talking about the upcoming Austin Museum of Art exhibit of Christo and Jeanne-Claude works from the Museum Würth in Künzelsau, Germany. Talking about aging of our parents with an occasional joke or a comment about the passing scenery or livestock from Dad.

We marked the passing of a really nice lady. And were there to support our friend, her daughter, in some small way. The big, hard stuff falls to the kids. I know. It's happening over and over to my generation.

I get home in time to ponder some finanacial stuff with FFP and change to something more casual before we meet some new friends for dinner. Famous in certain circles, they are fun. I drink a little. We eat good food. My only regret is that occasionally we have two conversations going and I can't hear both of them. I love people with strong opinions and lots of interesting stories who are also receptive to the stories you have to tell.

When you mark someone's passing, you always wonder what you will be remembered for. Other people (like our dinner guests tonight) always seem more earnestly engaged in their lives so that, when their time comes, it will be easy to say what needs to be said about them. When it's my turn will they say "she was a dilettante?"

Yeah, I'm afraid so.