Showing posts with label funeral service. Show all posts
Showing posts with label funeral service. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

My Life With Comic Books: Part # 183


A brief introduction:

My name is Paul Howley. Some people have called me the "luckiest man in the comic book business" but that all changed as of January 9th 2001, when our son, Adam Howley, died.

The current cast of characters:
Paul Howley: age 46
Mal Howley: age 46
Adam Howley: my son, age 21
Cassy Howley: my daughter, age 17

MY LIFE WITH COMIC BOOKS: THE HISTORY OF A COMIC SHOP-Part 183

The winter of 2001 was now gone and the ground was no longer frozen. It was time to bury our son, Adam. We had picked out a burial lot on a small hill in Union Cemetery. It was an awful feeling, knowing that this would mark the last place that Adam’s earthly body would occupy.

The day of the burial started at our home, with our friend, Meridith, practicing a song written by Dar Williams that she would sing at the cemetery with Cassandra. It was a meaningful song that pointed out that we are all “family” in many ways. Here are the lyrics:

Can you fix this? It's a broken heart.
It was fine, but it just fell apart.
It was mine, but now I give it to you,
Cause you can fix it, you know what to do.

Let your love cover me,
Like a pair of angel wings,
You are my family,
You are my family.

We stood outside in the summer rain,
Different people with a common pain.
A simple box in that hard red clay,
Where we left him to always remain.

Let your love cover me,
Like a pair of angel wings,
You are my family,
You are my family.

The child who played with the moon and stars,
Waves a snatch of hay in a common barn,
In the lonely house of Adam's fall
Lies a child, it's just a child that's all, crying

Let your love cover me,
Like a pair of angel wings,
You are my family,
You are my family.


My brother-in-law Greg picked us up at our house and drove Mal, Cassandra and I to the funeral home so that we could see the casket. Five months before, at the memorial service, we handed out permanent markers and had encouraged friends and family members to write their “good-byes” to Adam on the casket. This was our private time to get to read what was written by the people who knew and loved Adam. After we were done, Greg drove us to the cemetery and I noticed that Laconia Monument Company had delivered the headstone to the gravesite.

When we arrived I was glad to see that the funeral home had put up a large tent over the open grave because it was pouring rain. The funeral director gave out black umbrellas to the hundred or so friends and relatives who came to the service. It reminded me of the burial scenes that were frequently in movies…dark, somber skies with a heavy downpour of rain and a “sea” of black umbrellas. I remember thinking that Adam would have appreciated the image.

After I got out of the car, Cassandra broke down in tears, sobbing for the first time in our presence since her brother’s death.

My memory isn’t very clear about the burial service anymore, but I do remember Cassy and Meridith singing at the front of the group of people. I also remember giving out over a hundred orange roses to the attendees. Then, our friend, Eric Robinson, conveyed an important message to everyone after someone handed out small white cards with the word “Why” on it. He explained that we shouldn’t ask why Adam died. The more important question is “what will we do now that Adam has died?” Will we be angry? Or depressed? Or will we learn to love people more while they are here with us? Eric asked everyone to drop the white cards into the open grave as a symbol of our decision to not ask why.

After the service we invited everyone to the home of my sister Sharon and my brother-in-law Greg. There were well over a hundred people there and while they ate food and shared more memories of Adam, I passed out copies of a videotape I had made that included clips from Adam’s short life. I included bits that had significant meaning to Mal and I…segments from birthday celebrations, holiday gatherings and from his many performances in plays. It had taken me several weeks to put these together and some of the relatives and friends appreciated the opportunity to learn more about Adam through the tapes.

By the time everyone had gone home, the realization had set-in that this was, most likely, the last gathering that would be about our son Adam.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

My Life With Comics: Part # 172

A brief introduction:
My name is Paul Howley. Some people have called me the “luckiest man in the comic book business.” But that all changed as of January 9th 2001.

The current cast of characters:
Paul Howley: age 46
Mal Howley: age 46
Adam Howley: my son, age 21
Cassy Howley: my daughter, age 16

MY LIFE WITH COMIC BOOKS: THE HISTORY OF A COMIC SHOP-Part 172

Saturday, January 13, 2001 was the day of our son’s funeral-memorial service. Lots of people were involved in putting this service together. Our church had members, Ken and Ellen Braley, Artie and Carol Boudreau, and David and Carolyn Lincoln, who volunteered to handle things like preparing the school gymnasium for however big a crowd may show up. We had no idea how many people would come to the service because we had moved away from most of our long-time friends in Massachusetts and it seemed unlikely that people would drive over one-hundred miles to attend. Our church volunteers also made sure there was enough food to feed the attendees. Ellen Braley handled the design and printing of the memorial program that I kept changing even up to the morning of the service. Family members had sorted through hundreds of photographs of Adam and planned a photograph display. Scott Bixby, another church member, offered to handle the music portion, starting and stopping the cassettes that my brother-in-law Greg and I had put together.

I wasn’t sure what I wanted to wear to Adam’s memorial service. I’m not comfortable in a suit and I rarely get “dressed up.” I decided to wear blue jeans and one of Adam’s sweaters. Mal wore a long, black skirt and a gray sweater that Adam had given her as a Christmas gift. Several friends and relatives had asked us what would be “appropriate” and we assured them that anything they’d like to wear would be okay with us. (Not that it matters, but Adam would have approved of anything from suits to t-shirts. He loved clothes.)


Even though the service wasn’t set to begin for several more hours, Mal and I decided to go there early to make sure that things were set up the way we had envisioned. There were already several people there. Dean, from the funeral home, was already there and he had about 350 chairs set up. The casket was in the front and several beautiful flower arrangements were on display, bringing much-needed color to the gym. The school principal, David Borchers, made sure we had colored markers for people to write their messages on the casket. Scott Bixby did a quick run-through of the music and made notes so he’d know when to start and stop the music during the program. Jim Morel, our pastor, was also there early to help out in any way he could. He agreed to speak a little bit at the beginning and the end of the service and he gave us the freedom to do the rest of the service as we wanted. By 9:00 am, there were about fifty people in the gymnasium. I remember pacing the floor, nervously hoping that everything would go as smoothly as possible, so that this final “tribute” to Adam would be meaningful.

We had a memorial table set up off to one side and Mal arranged some photographs of Adam and some of his personal belongings including his favorite pair of shoes, some clothes, his guitar, a favorite book, his Bible, and a quilt that Mal had made for him several years ago.

By 11:00 am there were probably 200 people there and the service wasn’t supposed to begin until 1:00pm. A friend asked me if I was having the memorial service videotaped and I replied that I’d never want to re-live this day.

By noon, our close group of friends, including Liz Verhoeks, Jim and Barb Foote, Russ and Jeanne Sample, and Eric and Linda Robinson, all managed to sit together. The gymnasium was nearly full. Mal, Cassy, and I sat in the front row on one side. Adam’s friend, Meridith sat in the front row on the other side and she reserved the seat next to her for Adam’s current girlfriend, Alletta.

By 12:45pm the gym was really packed with people and there were people still steadily arriving. People were standing 3 or 4 deep all around the gym because all of the seats and the bleachers were filled. Just before 1:00 pm, the chartered bus arrived filled with the kids from Newport, Rhode Island. They were a colorful group! Most had brightly colored or unusually cut hair and almost all of them were wearing huge, baggy pants. They were crying and carrying arms full of flowers. Most had orange-colored ribbons either tied in their hair or dangling from pierced earrings in their ears. One boy, with a mohawk haircut and lots of tattoos, came up to Mal and me and proudly showed us his newest tattoo on his forearm. It was Adam’s nickname, “Skaerie.”

Next chapter: The memorial service begins.