August 5 2014 was a tough day because we had to say our final goodbyes to Commando Senior. This time there were none of the black horses and glass coaches that April had wanted, just cars and flowers and a coffin that somehow didn’t seem big enough to contain someone so much larger than life. It was raining gently as we left the house and slid into the limousine. Somehow that seemed fitting.
As we drove slowly through the streets I couldn’t stop looking at the flat cap there on the top of the coffin with all the flowers. It was almost too much to bear. All through the service I looked at it, incongruous surrounded by lilies and roses. It seemed almost inconceivable that I’d never see it on his head again, never hear his cheery call of “it’s only me,” as he poked his head around the door.
Tears were shed, stories told. Now it’s done and life goes on. There was great comfort in having the family around, sharing our memories. As Philo said, “We shouldn’t be sad. It is just the end of a great story.” He may be gone but his legacy lives on.