Retta Davis Memorial Service, Introduction

From MemorialService

I have spent the last few weeks wading in the River Styx. On one shore I see the darkness, the emptiness, the infinite, the unknown. On the other shore the light, the fullness of life, the finite beauty, the familiar. My time has been filled with capturing memories in my net as the river flowed past. My time has been filled with comforting those who waded out with me. I am ready to wade back to shore and turn my back to death. But I always hear the water flowing by, feel the mist on my skin, and know that I will be back.

Many, particularly Aubrey, Trisha's Dad, have expressed deep gratitude at the work I did putting together the Memorial Service for Retta. I am comforted knowing that I comforted others. The memorial service was a love poem to Retta, given in her absence to Trisha, my sons, Aubrey and the rest of the extended Davis family. I created the framework of the poem, but it's beauty grew from the participation of everyone in the family.

For those who could not attend, and as a remembrance of those who were there, I present the text of the service in the next blog.