Today was Grandad's funeral. Beautiful ceremony, honoring the man whom we all loved and respected. Miranda and I sang together "I Know that My Redeemer Lives." Mom accompanied us.
I never realized how much I love music until recently. Because of the lung damage and prednisone, I was not able to sing the way I usually can (which isn't the greatest anyway, but I can hold a note or two!). I feel as if it's almost been taken from me, but I am able to keep just enough. Almost as a tease. You older athletes know what I am talking about. Your body and head think about what you could do when you were younger. But when you go out to play right now, and try to execute "fundamental things," you fall flat on your face, or don't do it like you used to. That is how I felt today. So boo to prednisone for that, but yeah for helping me live.
As part of the ceremony, we were able to take part in the Military respects of the 16 gun salute, bugles, bag pipes, the whole nine yards. It was inspirational.
No comments:
Post a Comment