Christian and I went to Utah for Christopher's funeral last Tuesday.
It was SUCH a beautiful service!
I wish I could adequately describe who he was;
he impacted everyone he knew, and I mean EVERYONE.
The night Topher died, I was sitting in a rocking chair
on the front porch in the dark by myself, rocking and crying.
Our front yard has a magnolia tree with
huge white fragrant flowers blooming.
They looked like they were glowing
like little white ghosts in the dark. (Topher loved ghosts).
I can't look at a magnolia flower
or tree without thinking of Topher now.
The night before I went to Utah, Jane and I picked
several tightly budded-magnolia flowers from the tree.
I packed them safely up and
carried them on the plane with me.
I wanted to put them on his grave to represent my family in North Carolina.
On the way graveside service, there were people all along the road
with balloons and signs showing support
and love for Topher and his family.
He was truly loved by his neighborhood and the community.
My four brothers and his three sons
carried him to his final resting spot.
Topher is buried in a cemetery at the foot of Provo's majestic mountains
in a secluded area under a Russian Olive tree.
The perfect spot.
(you can watch the funeral here).