This lovely reflection brought to mind some thoughts about how life has changed since I was a kid. I remember playing on an iron merry-go-round that, when it got up to speed, could toss you like a rag doll onto the asphalt below. We got our share of skinned knees from that thing but, man, was it fun!

I contrast that with the cushioned playgrounds and plastic equipment on which kids play today. This equipment is undoubtedly safer than what I knew, but, somehow, it also seems more sterile.

The business of not letting pallbearers be pallbearers seems to stem from the same misguided sense of caution. Life requires touch. It requires stretched muscles and slow climbs up church steps and appreciating the fact that, even in death, the human body has mass and gravity. 

The grandchildren who carried Melissa's mother-in-law's casket will cherish the experience all the more for the sense memories that come from physical labor. No doubt they'd say Grandma was worth it.