Memoir
A Legacy Like John White
The odor of incense is a smell that everyone has probably smelt before. As it spread through the large crowded church, I recalled the last funeral I had been to and realized it had been a long time. For my family, it was a much heavier scent since we were in the front pews closest to the casket. Outside, it was misty, cloudy, and drizzling, which matched the mood inside. The death and funeral of my Grandfather John White was the first time I actually looked at myself in the mirror.
One moment that I remember very vividly was when I first arrived to the wake. I was a few minutes late because I had to pick up my brother from the train. When I arrived, there were many people already there. There was a quiet sereneness about the atmosphere. Everyone was standing close and whispering as not to be disruptive. As I walked through the crowd of unfamiliar faces, I thought for a minute that I might not be in the right room. I kept thinking to myself as I slid around the room, who are these people. But as I got closer to
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