The funeral

I went to Jason's funeral Wednesday. It was about an hour and a half long. His father and sister spoke. There wasn't a dry eye in the place. Whenever I thought about his infant daughter, I cried too. It was tough.
A Baptist preacher emceed and after listening to the eulogies, I think he chucked his prepared remarks and improvised. His main message was that we've all got to face God someday and give an account for our lives. So what's yours gonna look like? He seized the occasion of a young man's death to speak about eternity, which I appreciate. But he failed to mention who Christ is. In fact, I don't remember him saying the name Jesus. And you know what? If I've gotta answer to my Creator for what I've done and who I've become, then I'm sunk if somebody ain't there to save me.
At the end of the service, there were bagpipes playing Amazing Grace. Because Pudge was a drummer, several friends strapped on drums and knocked out a great beat afterwards, too.
Besides the friends I see regularly, I saw a lot of old classmates: Susan Bry (don't know her last name now), Eric Spatz, even a guy I went to middle school with, Jason Gough. Matt Brown delivered one of the eulogies. I'm worried about him, he was very close to Jason and I think he's taking it the hardest.