Joshua Claybourn read the post about my mother's funeral and sent in something he wrote two years ago when his mother died. I could especially relate to the last paragraph, where he talks about two kids on bikes riding by right after his mother's final breath. At first, he found it a "loud, unwanted and out of place" intrusion, but he then realized that "in their laughter was life." Somebody brought a baby to my mother's funeral, and it was fussy through most of the service. I found the sound comforting rather than annoying. In that baby's crying was life, too.
