A strange sort of fellow

Long ago I was contacted by a family to play at a graveside service.

Information such as time, place and fee were agreed to and all was set.
Right before our conversation ended, I was warned about the deceased man’s son, he was “a strange sort of fellow”.
I was cautioned that he might contact me and request “Yankee Doodle” or something.

Well, the day came and I arrived early as I always do. I set up the pipe and warmed it up so as to be ready.
I became aware of a man walking towards me, no doubt this was the son I was warned about.

We exchanged pleasantries and he said that at one time he was a drunk, a thoroughly unreliable sort that the family had shunned and with good reason.

It seems he went to 12 step program and became sober and in his father’s last year he was the primary care giver.

This gentleman went on to say that no one could understand the bond that his father and he had. That roles were reversed and now he helped the father out the way a parent would help their child.

• 

He ended and smiled at me extending his hand to which I met with a firm handshake.
This fellow requested that I play my best for his father, then he walked away into the cemetery.
I looked at my hand, and there in my palm was cash.

He returned when the hearse and procession arrived, and held his head down
throughout the ceremony.

I realized that from this event, that all of us grieve the loss of a loved
one in our unique way. There are similarities I am sure, but who knows the
heart of another after all.