Celebration of George

The little church auditorium was packed -- no fooling, it was swelling with the friends of George Reynolds. I kept reminding myself that we had gathered not because George had died on April 27th, but because he had lived 64 years of life and because he had such a positive impact on each one of us.

Because George was so involved in the local music community, the celebration was filled with fabulous music. Because George was a singer-song writer, we all had the privilege of hearing some quality music and watching gifted musicians play. Many of the songs were composed by George. A CD of George's music had just been produced and a copy was given to each of the couple hundred people who attend the celebration.

More than the quality music, I was most impressed with the young people who came to the microphone to tell how George had encouraged them. On the left is Kelly telling her music story -- she is now a "Taylor Swift" look-a-like and paid to come to birthday parties to perform. In the middle Lia is singing and her little sister, Gillian, is playing the saxophone; both are in the church praise team that George led. Zander is the son of Blake who has been a drummer, bass player at church. The two of us sat in the front of the church because we were scheduled early in the program. We watched our friend, Cyndi, sing. She was George's assistant in organizing the praise team and she befriended George these past many months during his illness with prostate cancer. She often cooked for him and in the last month of his life, Cyndi tended to all the medical paperwork and so many needed tasks that George could no longer do.

I mentioned Saturday that we had been asked to speak because we've been close friends with George and because I have written the "George" story. So I had prepared what I was going to say and chose not to speak spontaneously. I asked Mr. Fun if he'd stand with me so in case my emotion over-ruled my voice, he could step-in and speak my words for me. I blended much of what I have already written in my Blip-pages and added several paragraphs Mr. Fun had spoken to me (and I recorded) the past several weeks about George. (It is a 1,300 word essay and I may include it at the bottom of this entry later just so I have a copy that's easy to locate.)

I knew that I had to pull tight on the reins of my emotion because if I began to cry the room would be flooded with a mighty flowing river of my tears. My voice quivered and quieted only once and I recaptured my composure and carried-on. I wanted to honor George and hopefully not draw attention to myself. And I do know that tears are okay.

I am back-blipping this on Monday afternoon and today has been the day of tears. The only description for what the two of us are experiencing is deep grief.


Thank you for reading this far.
Rosie (& Mr. Fun), aka Carol

P.S. I will be posting something later today, Monday, (but not sure what).