Yesterday, while driving into town, I ended up behind a funeral procession. The highway into town is 80km/hr but it IS a major commuter route and folks rarely go less than 100km/hr. (Since my hubby will be reading this I must sheepishly admit that I, too, belong in that category!) It isn't unusual
to end up going no faster than 80 when there is a long line of traffic ahead. But when the speedometer sat at a constant 55km/hr my patience began to wear thin. As soon as the highway split into four lanes the vehicles ahead of me eagerly jumped into the passing lane to escape the snails. Almost as quickly as they switched lanes I saw them merge back into the lane they had just left. As I got to the front of the line in the passing lane I noticed the flashing hazard lights on the cars ahead who were following a hearse. Ah! Not wanting to pass the hearse I too slipped back into the 55km/hr stream of traffic. The
rest of the cars behind me did likewise.
I also noticed on the other side of the highway oncoming traffic was also pulling over as the hearse passed. This is something that I haven't seen in a very long time. Although, it's been years since I was either in or behind a funeral procession. I was very impressed with my fellow travelers. At intersections cars who had the right-of-way with the green light were stopping to let the procession proceed through the red light. In an age where we are always running behind schedule or are distracted by the minutiae of life, it was refreshing to see people paying respect to the dead.
When people ask me how I can spend so much time in cemeteries I'm not sure that I can explain completely. I don't find them creepy -- although I have never been in one at night. On the contrary, I find them to be very serene and calm places. I feel a sense of reverence, kind of like when I'm in a church. All around me are mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, soldiers. I am very careful to respect their space. When I need to get a closer look at the text on a stone I always mutter a quick "excuse me" as I step on the grass. Perhaps it's the Canadian in me that always thinks to ask permission, I don't know! :)
to end up going no faster than 80 when there is a long line of traffic ahead. But when the speedometer sat at a constant 55km/hr my patience began to wear thin. As soon as the highway split into four lanes the vehicles ahead of me eagerly jumped into the passing lane to escape the snails. Almost as quickly as they switched lanes I saw them merge back into the lane they had just left. As I got to the front of the line in the passing lane I noticed the flashing hazard lights on the cars ahead who were following a hearse. Ah! Not wanting to pass the hearse I too slipped back into the 55km/hr stream of traffic. The
rest of the cars behind me did likewise.
I also noticed on the other side of the highway oncoming traffic was also pulling over as the hearse passed. This is something that I haven't seen in a very long time. Although, it's been years since I was either in or behind a funeral procession. I was very impressed with my fellow travelers. At intersections cars who had the right-of-way with the green light were stopping to let the procession proceed through the red light. In an age where we are always running behind schedule or are distracted by the minutiae of life, it was refreshing to see people paying respect to the dead.
When people ask me how I can spend so much time in cemeteries I'm not sure that I can explain completely. I don't find them creepy -- although I have never been in one at night. On the contrary, I find them to be very serene and calm places. I feel a sense of reverence, kind of like when I'm in a church. All around me are mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, soldiers. I am very careful to respect their space. When I need to get a closer look at the text on a stone I always mutter a quick "excuse me" as I step on the grass. Perhaps it's the Canadian in me that always thinks to ask permission, I don't know! :)
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