There were constantly trucks
unloading crates of water just to keep people hydrated. I only wish
there was a pizza truck every so often...
Perhaps the strangest thing about the millions of us who showed up to
say good-bye to John Paul II is how personally we took his death.
It was like a member of the family had died. But what kind of family
member have you never met before?
And even for those of us lucky enough to have met John Paul II, it's
not like he remembered us personally. My friend Bill used to joke, when
he saw the picture of JPII and me on my wall, "I bet the pope doesn't
have that picture on
his
wall!"
Of course he didn't remember me. Heck, I've got friends who don't
remember me.
But John Paul II was someone we loved. He was like our grandfather. Our
Holy (grand) Father.
He was someone we grew up with - and always knew would be there. Maybe
we didn't read all his encyclicals or know everything about his
life...but we felt like we knew him.
So the outpouring of personal good-byes was not surprising.
Mini memorials sprouted up all over the city. People left flowers,
hand-written notes, pictures...all from the heart.
Unfortunately, as usual, I had brought nothing. Not because I'm cheap
(though I am) - but because I didn't know what to buy, or what to
say...
But I think this little note
summed it up best for me:
Pope John Paul II. The
Best.
