I went to Nashville today to say goodbye to a friend's dad. You know he had to be a really neat guy because four preachers gave his eulogy and all four struggled to maintain their composure. Mr. Carty had the dryest, most sarcastic sense of humor. He would zing you with a comment and only the twinkle in his eye would give him away.
You know you're at a good funeral when the Opie-look-a-like minister heckles your very own mama within the first three minutes of the funeral. In an example of Mr. Carty's humor, he told the story of the first time my mom invited the Carty's over for dinner. It was a long, LONG time ago because my parents were still married (my dad and Patsy just celebrated their 30th anniversary, so it had to have been more than 35 years ago).
As Mom was putting dinner on the table, she place a basket of well-done rolls in front of Mr. Carty. He said, "To what do we owe this burnt offering?" Mom and Mrs. Carty have been very close friends ever since.
Lots of laughs and lots of tears. The presence of two ex-sons-in-laws. A grandson in Iraq and unable to tell his grandfather good-bye. At the end of it all, a Mr. Carty look-alike in the form of one of his six brothers made me smile and think...his legacy lives on in his brothers and sisters, wife, children and grandchildren. He has set the bar high for the rest of us.
Winter scenes from the porch. . . . . . . . . .
5 hours ago