Prompt 33 - We Gather Here To Remember

Every seat is filled by a friend. This is the very first memorial in a new church. The beautifully decorated stage with its flowers and sentiments is merely secondary to a single photo on a pedestal. An older man, smiling at the crowd that has gathered to remember a life fully lived. He is tall. About six foot ten, I believe; judging by where my head stood while shaking his hand every Sunday morning. I stand in the back for a lack of seats, just another friend.

Music begins and pictures fill the screen overhead. A newborn baby in his father's arms. A child posing for his photo high atop Cadillac mountain, knickers held high by a pair of suspenders. All of the images are black and white, taken many decades ago. Tears begin to stream down faces as they look at the passing memories, remembering the moments they captured.

The young boy in the pictures becomes a man, married with children. Photographs of family Christmas's and summer picnics. The man grows old until a final, lasting image remains on the screen. A John Wayne type character standing in front of his truck, the wind in his face. The music ends and there isn't a dry eye.

Singing follows. Not mournful, grief filled songs, but hope filled songs. They sing with an assurance of a future greeting at a pair of gates. The tears on his aged wife's face trickle down her cheeks to a smile below.