My friend, Mrs. Murff, who I told you about in earlier entries, passed away on Saturday. The funeral was yesterday.
Mrs. Murff was a very kind woman who loved me a lot. I loved her, too, very much. Even though I didn't get to see her every week, my mom took copies of my journal entries to her on Wednesdays. She loved reading my journal and she would read it to her family and friends. They told me so at the funeral.
At the funeral, I met Mrs. Murff's daughters and their husbands and I gave Mr. Murff a nice warm handshake and a tight hug. I showed them my picture of Mrs. Murff and I carried another picture and a letter she wrote me.
The funeral was in the chapel which was the original church where South Carolina voted to secede from the Union. The building was a skinny rectangle with columns in it. Dad explained why they built buildings that way back then. It had to do with what materials they had and the technology of the time. He also said that there was sickness going around Charleston so they moved the meeting to Columbia. It is a pretty chapel with a stained glass scene behind the pulpit. It looked like Jesus was blessing a woman.
I wore black pants, a blue and white striped button down shirt with a blue and gold tie. I wore my bucks and black socks. I also wore a black leather jacket with it. Mom trimmed my hair and ear before I left. It only bled a little bit and only hurt when she snipped it. I looked clean and neat and mature. Mrs. Murff would have loved it.
I cried again last night when I was falling asleep because I know I'm going to miss her. She always bragged on me and my father and mother and my brothers and sister and her praise felt so good.
Richard cried today over her and he said he would never quit crying. He finally did quit crying and he's outside playing now, but I know what he felt like.
Mrs. Murff was in a coma for three weeks before she died. We know that even if a person's brain doesn't work, their spirit does, so we prayed and fasted for her for three weeks. Actually, Dad fasted. But we constantly prayed and never quit.
I wish this was all a bad dream and I would wake up because I would have Mom drive me to her and I would squeeze her up.
Goodbye Mrs. Murff. I'll never forget you.
(Click on letter to read)
Links to entries about Mrs. Murff