This week we had a funeral to attend for a family friend. He was an older man who had been sick for quite some time. A WWII vet (he was at Normandy and Battle of the Bulge), tribal leader, grandfather, and genuinely kind man.
The funeral was truly a celebration of his great life.
So when my Princess asked to pay her respects (she didn’t say that, she actually said, “I want to see the man who died.”) and view his body, I was hesitant. But I don’t want her to be afraid of something natural like death. So I allowed her to. The casket was only open half way. You could not see his legs or feet.
Here is what she said:
“Where are his shoes? I want to see his shoes?”
Yep, that is my girl. Shoes, shoes, shoes.
Where, O Death, is your victory? Where, O Death, is your sting? 1 Corinthians 15:55
