Memorial Day in Kenya

We spent Memorial Day in Kenya at the funeral of a twelve year old. Here's what I remember in a sort free flow of thoughts....
Red ribbons are attached to the antenna of each vehicle in the funeral procession.
 At the mortuary at the public hospital, concessions are sold by men walking around - just like at a baseball game.
The sign at the mortuary gave fees for fresh bodies and had a chart that went up in price as the deceased age increased.
This mortuary smelled. Not exactly sure what the smell was, but I don't want to smell it again.
I realized I had never seen a child in a casket the moment I went into the viewing spot and saw his precious face in the small window that is open for viewing.
The casket was so small it was barely longer than a regular sized coffee table. It sat on the coffee table in the middle of nowhere where the burial took place in the middle of a shamba ( farm.)
You have to walk a long way to find a private bush if you need to tinkle and sometimes you have to pass about 5 sheep on the way and hope they don't follow you.
I have never seen a grave being dug, nor had I seen the casket lowered in to the ground and covered before today.
I do not like to see my brother Peter upset. He's a tough guy and this was very tough on him. Couldn't help but think "what if this were one of my nieces or my nephew?"
I love holding children. Noxie sat in my lap the entire way home and slept. He's seven and precious. And after a pretty long day, it was so peaceful to hold him.
There will never be a time that we don't "stick out" anywhere we go. And I hope soon, we will be treated like normal people. People here are so incredibly kind to us and there is no way to say thank you. Some of them we will never see again.
A christian scientist African preacher puts a Baptist preacher to SHAME when it comes to funeral sermons. This one lasted at least 2 hours....

So much for hot dogs and a dip in the pool. Thanking all veterans out there for providing my freedom.

God Bless America.