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March

Mr. B, for today call me March. My symbol is darkness, my color is black, and my songs are, “Held” by Natalie Grant and “Praise You in the Storm” by Casting Crowns. I am March because on Sunday, March 11, 2007, at 5:00 pm, my mother got a call. She was so upset that she ran outside and almost fell trying to get out the door.

I knew something was terribly wrong; someone had died. Bridget watched the children and I walked out to support my mother. I figured her great-great aunt or someone I had never met had passed away and I would be there for moral support. When she told me that Gerry Edgar had just kicked the bucket, I felt my knees give way.

This is the man I’d known since birth. Not a day had gone by that he and my dad, along with other members of our families, had not communicated in some form: phone, email, or getting together. Anytime I had a problem, I’d call Gerry. This man saved me from countless fates. This is the same man whom I saw so much of in my early life, that I called him my uncle.

Wednesday, March 14, 2007, 2:00pm, we had the open casket funeral. Starring at him without his glasses, in his Clemson t-shirt and jeans (that’s Gerry for you), he looked so different.
Gerry was always a jokester. I was standing over the coffin gazing at the proof of his death and all my mind could think was: Any moment now, he'll jump up and yell, “Gotch ya!” Any second now, anytime…

The preacher came and we all said a few words. The entire time I was staring at the closed coffin waiting for him to pop up. It wasn’t until after the graveside service (when they lowered him in the ground, with his award, and covered it with dirt) that I realized—I would never see him again.

So, Mr. B, for today call me March. My symbol is darkness, my color is black, and my songs are, “Held” by Natalie Grant and “Praise You in the Storm” by Casting Crowns.





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