Remembering Sol G. Plante - August 19, 1973 ~ January 8, 2005
Today I went to the funeral services and burial for my cousin Sol. I
wanted to go to the casket and pay my respects, but I just couldn't do
it. I saw his body from about six feet away -his face was pretty
bruised up- and a feeling of sickness just came over me. He didn't
"pass away" he was killed. Not only that, but his kids were there. They
were just little kids. It was so sad to see them at the casket. I dunno
how they could possibly deal with it. Well, I suppose they are too
young to understand fully.
His kids must have been from like ages four to eight. Not counting the six month old -who was not there. And what's worse is, that his wife is pregnant with another child. A child or children. (He was praying for twin girls so they would have three boys and three girls.) That child is never going to meet it's father. And what's worse... he's never going to meet his child.
I didn't know Sol very well, but I knew he had always wanted a big family. And he got it. And he was so family oriented. (In fact, when he got killed in the car accident, he was on his way to buy a board game for his family to play together.) During the funeral service, the reverand told us what Sol's son had told him earlier that day. His son had said, "My dad would drop anything to play with me." I started crying right then. It was so sad. Who is going to drop everything to play with that little boy now? His mom certainly won't be able to with a baby on her hands.
It's terrible. And so devastating. Some of the people who got up and spoke, and some of the things the reverand read were just so moving. For example:
The reverand read a poem that Sol's wife, Misty, had written for him on their anniversary last year. It said, "I wonder where we will be in thirty years. Sitting on our porch. Telling our grandchildren the story of how we met." Grandchildren. Grandchildren that will never get to meet their grandfather. And a man, who loved his family sooooo much, who will never be able to meet those grandchildren.
During the service, the reverand kept saying, "We will see your face in heaven." and "Until we meet again in the eternal life." And things of that nature. I can't wait to get to heaven. I want to meet him so badly. From what I understand (I met him a few times, but I was too young to remember it.), he was soooo nice, caring, funny, loving. I want to meet him and tell him how much we all missed him. And tell him how moved I was that he would do anyyyything for his family.
I wish I had the oppurtunity to get to know Sol better. I sincerely do. "He is blessed," as his son said. All I can say is, I wish there were more like Sol. I know so many people who's fathers never pay attention to them, blow them off, yell at them constantly, and some even hit by them. Some things, Sol would never ever do in a million years.
Something they read during the funeral service...
John 14
Let not your heart be troubled;
ye believe in God, believe also
in me.
In my father's house are many
mansions; if it were not so, I
would have told you. I go to
prepare a place for you.
And if I go and prepare a place
for you, I will come again, and
receive you unto myself, that
where I am, there ye may be also.
His kids must have been from like ages four to eight. Not counting the six month old -who was not there. And what's worse is, that his wife is pregnant with another child. A child or children. (He was praying for twin girls so they would have three boys and three girls.) That child is never going to meet it's father. And what's worse... he's never going to meet his child.
I didn't know Sol very well, but I knew he had always wanted a big family. And he got it. And he was so family oriented. (In fact, when he got killed in the car accident, he was on his way to buy a board game for his family to play together.) During the funeral service, the reverand told us what Sol's son had told him earlier that day. His son had said, "My dad would drop anything to play with me." I started crying right then. It was so sad. Who is going to drop everything to play with that little boy now? His mom certainly won't be able to with a baby on her hands.
It's terrible. And so devastating. Some of the people who got up and spoke, and some of the things the reverand read were just so moving. For example:
The reverand read a poem that Sol's wife, Misty, had written for him on their anniversary last year. It said, "I wonder where we will be in thirty years. Sitting on our porch. Telling our grandchildren the story of how we met." Grandchildren. Grandchildren that will never get to meet their grandfather. And a man, who loved his family sooooo much, who will never be able to meet those grandchildren.
During the service, the reverand kept saying, "We will see your face in heaven." and "Until we meet again in the eternal life." And things of that nature. I can't wait to get to heaven. I want to meet him so badly. From what I understand (I met him a few times, but I was too young to remember it.), he was soooo nice, caring, funny, loving. I want to meet him and tell him how much we all missed him. And tell him how moved I was that he would do anyyyything for his family.
I wish I had the oppurtunity to get to know Sol better. I sincerely do. "He is blessed," as his son said. All I can say is, I wish there were more like Sol. I know so many people who's fathers never pay attention to them, blow them off, yell at them constantly, and some even hit by them. Some things, Sol would never ever do in a million years.
Something they read during the funeral service...
John 14
Let not your heart be troubled;
ye believe in God, believe also
in me.
In my father's house are many
mansions; if it were not so, I
would have told you. I go to
prepare a place for you.
And if I go and prepare a place
for you, I will come again, and
receive you unto myself, that
where I am, there ye may be also.