The service Saturday for Henry Granju was beautful and moving. Hundreds of people were there, and the altar was literally covered in early summer flowers. Henry's father gave a wonderful remembrance that helped everyone understand what made Henry so special. A cousin sang Forever Young by Bob Dylan, and the whole church sang Let It Be while holding lighted candles. We took communion. I don't think there was a dry eye in the place.
Although it was terribly sad--and I grieve in particular for Henry's parents--the service was also a celebration of Henry: a talented, beautiful boy whose family plainly adored him and lost him way too soon. It was also a celebration of the strength and grace of Henry's family. I'm hopeful that their love for one another will help sustain them in this dark time.