Thursday

My day was consumed by a sacred duty that is simultaneously sorrowful and joyful, sweet and bitter. Fr John Bettman's requiem was at 11, at St Paul's, Carlinville. After some time for post-liturgical socializing, the committal was in Glen Carbon, another 50 minutes or so further away from Springfield. We gave him a good sendoff, I think. I never cease to be amazed at how well the Prayer Book liturgy bears the freight of such occasions. I was home right a 5, one very tired introvert.

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