February 4, 2008

• Today saw the formal obsequies for one of the good guys.

  My brother-in-law, Hal's, father died last Wednesday night after being ill with Alzheimer's for several years, leaving behind his wife, Betty (who is in the Woman's Club department to which I belong), four children, and several grandchildren.

  His funeral service was this morning and a well-attended service it was!  Don and I arrived a few minutes before it was due to start (got off a little late then I got confused as to where the funeral home was and went the long way 'round) and were neatly shepherded into a small room to wait for the family to go in, after which we - and a few other people who'd been similarly detoured - took places in the empty rows up front.

  Hal gave the eulogy and did a crackerjack job, bless him.  I loved this story he told about his father's intense enjoyment of card games:

  Saturday was a standing poker game with friends, and most times he was back home in early to mid-afternoon.  Once in a while, though, the play would be such that he'd stay longer than usual.  One of those times was the Saturday before Easter, back when Hal and his siblings were young enough to enjoy hunting for Easter eggs.

  Betty had requested he pick up the eggs on his way home, so they could be boiled and dyed in preparation for the Easter morning festivities.  Time passed, and her husband didn't come.

  She called him, and was assured he was just about to leave.  Fine.

  Time passed again, in that relentless way it has, bringing no husband and therefore no eggs.  Yet another phone call, yielding another assurance that this time he was really about to leave.  Fine.

  Still more time passed, with no husband and no eggs!  Just when she was about to call once more, the doorbell rang.

  It was a cab driver, holding out a package containing eggs.

  Yes, her husband had called a cab, instructing the driver to stop at the store, purchase the required eggs, and deliver them home. 

  Hal never did say what time his father finally showed up. 

  Wayne Lambert was a teacher for decades at McLean Middle School, which earns my heartiest admiration, as I've noticed over the years that middle schools tend to languish, as both teachers and parent volunteers tend to prefer to work in either elementary schools or high schools.  Personally, I've always liked middle schoolers....heck, I adopted one!  ;^) 

  He'd also served in the Korean war, and was buried over at the Dallas-Fort Worth National Cemetery in, wouldn't you know, Dallas, so I couldn't be there for the military grave-side service he had.

  Our paths never crossed often, I regret to say, but I always enjoyed those times I did get to spend with him.

  My condolences to his family, with thanks to the LORD for having generously spared His servant, Wayne, to us for as many years as He did.

  

  Wayne Lambert
  December 25, 1929 - January 30, 2008

  • 6:28 pm
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