On Funerals

My dad's sister (Aunt Nell) passed away last week, so I was in Ohio for the past few days to attend the funeral. It was a nice ceremony. I haven't seen my cousins in quite a while, so it was nice to catch up a little. As Dad and I drove from the funeral home to the cemetery, we formed the typical funeral procession with flags on our cars, and I mentioned to my Dad that I don't remember seeing anything like this around Wauconda in the last few years. I don't know if I just have happened to miss them or if it is not an Illinois custom.  As we drove along on a fairly large highway, cars we passed pulled over to the side of the road in recognition of the funeral procession. I don't know if the next generation of drivers would know that is the proper protocol. We did not have a police car leading us as is sometimes the case when the procession stays in town. Just the hearse in the front. But people knew to pull over. Funeral processions don't tend to obey traffic lights or stop signs. Everyone just keeps moving so that you stay together. The main rule, I think, is don't cut into the procession. I assume the pulling over is out of respect for the deceased. Not too far from Aunt Nell and Uncle Clint's spot is my Mom's gravestone, so Dad and I spent a little time there before heading back to the church for a luncheon. The women of the church put together a nice lunch for everyone. It gives everybody a chance to talk together. A good chance to remember Aunt Nell , who was 91 years old, a former librarian and bookmobile driver, and who helped move our meager possessions to Illinois when Ann and I first moved here in 1973 for our first teaching jobs, fresh out of college.  Rest in Peace, Aunt Nell.