At long last, we got my dad planted. In a lovely shaded spot in the West Hill Cemetery in between Sherburne and Smyrna under a large maple tree. It was a short but sweet service with a luncheon at mom's after wards. I had a surprisingly tearful morning. I thought I was cried out.
Dad would of been rolling in his grave (but he wasn't in it yet...his ashes were sitting still above it) as he was the last one to arrive and was late for his own funeral. Mom forgot his picture and Jeff had to turn around at Lewis's to back tract three miles to get it.
So...on we go with our hearts full of love and memories. He was and is the best dad and pop pop...ever.
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