A final gift

As some of you faithful readers know, The lovely bride and I recently attended a funeral in Texas. Now, let me say first off that I have always avoided funerals. They are not happy occasions and quite frankly I don't like saying goodbye. I don't like leaving the High Falls Hilton and saying goodbye, so the permanent goodbye has been something that I have avoided whenever possible.
However this one was different.
Dwayne had given thought to how he wanted to be remembered. He had taken the time to write down and plan for everything. From the motorcycle that he wanted in the viewing room, to the leathers that he was wearing, the music being played, the route to the cemetery and how he wanted to be taken (on a motorcycle trailer). He took the time to make sure that he was remembered for the person that he was, not as the person that some unnamed funeral director thought that he should be remembered as.
What a final gift.
His family didn't have to really make any of those decisions that certainly would have been colored by grief. They never had to fall into the trap of letting a funeral home "make all of the arrangements" and "take care of everything".
He did that for them.
What a gift.
He let someone like me, that had had only met him once, really get a sense of who he was. He allowed his friends to be themselves in the midst of their grieving over a fallen friend. Most of his friends were bikers, he was in his leathers and they were in theirs. He rode with them in life and they rode with him and gave him an escort for their final farewell. One last ride with him...
What a gift.
He chose the music that was played at the cemetery, and evidently it was music that was recognised by his friends as being from him. No hymns, no hosannas, no bringing in the sheaves. Instead the Eagles, Steve Miller and Lynyrd Skynrd sang him on the way to his final ride. And his friends and family recognized that this was how he wanted to be remembered. No choir, no church group, instead fifty bikers, as bikers, with leathers and do rags softly singing Take it to the Limit. No recirculated pap, just a few songs that told the story of one mans life and the impact that he had on others.
From all accounts he was almost mythic. Ten feet tall, bulletproof, a force of nature, unforgettable. On their bikes, in their leathers, allowed to be themselves I learned about Dwayne. Quick to anger, quick to forgive, loyal to a fault, a prankster, a family man...one man that had known him for over 40 years told me "if you were his friend you were his f*cking friend, and he was yours". Real friends are hard to find.
I wish I would have known him better.
He made me think.
How do I want to be remembered? Do I really want my wife and family trying to figure out what to do and say?
I hear those songs now and I think of a man I never knew. I think about the friends that I met through his passing. I met some great people. If you can judge a man by his friends I missed knowing someone worthwhile.
And without ever knowing, he left me a gift by letting me get to be friends with some of his.
What a gift.
Finally, I did get my best gift from him. And he did know about this one.
I married his daughter....
What a gift.
Ride free Dwayne...you are missed by many.