We had the service today, one last salute for Otto from the Legion, a few hymn’s, some great memories and a few new stories. (I’m still trying to picture my husband in the middle of a food fight?).
And then dinner.
Celebrations were a huge part Otto’s life, a thing he believed in. He sent cards, notes, letters, and took you out for dinner. Dinner was mostly at the same place. It’s not the most amazing place, and certainly not the trendiest place, but it’s a good steak, great prime rib, and fried ice cream for dessert. (and they make a good whisky sour – I should know, I had 3 tonight). It’s called the Caribou and it’s an institution here in Prince George.
So we sent word to family and friends. “Come“, we said. “Come and let Otto buy you one last dinner”. One last celebration. One last time together. Friends and family gathered around several tables, the sweet and the bitter.
I wanted to make a toast, and I thought about it all day, turning words and phrases in my mind, and in the end, it was short and to the point. I wanted to say a thing that was real, that was true and that was undeniable. I found myself with few words, only these:
We loved Otto, and he loved us.