Dove Tales

Dove tails; a strong joint holding a corner together. No! not that kind of dove tail. I'm talking Dove TALES.



When we release doves at a graveside committal, it is to represent the deceased persons soul being released and carried "home" to God. We know it's symbolic and the doves just fly back to where they are fed and not off to heaven. Or do they?

It was a funeral like many others. The family had gathered around the grave. After the Reverend had committed the body to the ground and told the loved ones to leave all there unfinished business in the ground with him, he stepped aside and let the dove handler have the spotlight. One by one, she handed the three doves to the key family members. One dove in particular was being squirmy. It was difficult for the gentleman to hold him while she said her verses. Then upon cue, they released the doves and thereby released there father. Only the squirmy dove flew right up to a branch above the grave. As the other doves circled to get their bearings and then flew home, the one continued to sit above the grave.

As usual when something happens like this, someone will make a joke that "He doesn't want to go to Heaven".
With that, they decided that they wanted to witness the lowering of the casket. So we obliged them and slowly lowered their father into his final resting place. The dove, continued to sit there.

A son proclaimed that the job wasn't finished yet and that we needed to seal the grave. So we lowered the vault lid into position. As the vault sealed, we heard the flapping of wings and the dove flew away.

Was that man's soul really in that bird that day?

Did he stick around to witness his own burial?

Did he fly away to heaven on the wings of a dove?

On the Wings of a Dove

This post, presumably from it's title has become the most popular ever on this blog. If you've come here in search of a dove photo or perhaps looking for inspiration, take the time to look around. I think you might like it here, on The Bright Side of the Grave.....



Standing in the 85 degree, sun drenched cemetery wearing a black suit was not the issue. Somehow my highly polished black shoes seemed to absorb all the heat away from my body and manage to cook my feet to a crisp. It's been dry and hot here for over a week and everything is starting to get crispy. The cemetery grass is a lonely shade of brown with the exception of the occasional weed that seems to thrive in this sort of weather and is jutting high above the nicely kept lawn, waving in the breeze as though to stick it's nose up at the fragile state that the lawn has come to.
The minister went on and on. You could tell that everyone was getting weary. The Scottsman  tending to his bagpipes was standing under a tree in the distance wiping the sweat from his brow. The soldiers stood at attention in the hot summer sun awaiting their orders.
As I stood silently next to the hearse, I noticed the two turkey vultures circling above the cemetery. Just an hour before, we were joking that it would be terrible if a dove that we released was to get snatched up for some hawk's or vulture's lunch. The young man tending to the basket containing a single dove, also watched nervously.
As the minister finished his committal prayer, the Army Chaplin stepped up and began his speech. "Another soldier has been called by the great commander-in-chief" he called out. Just then one of the vultures made a swoop down toward the crowd gathered around the open grave. I overheard one woman say, "Isn't that cool that the Eagles are circling above". The tension is mounting with all of us that were working the service.
Just then the firing squad fires three rounds. The vultures disappear. Now's our chance.

While the bugle played Taps, we expedited the release of the lone dove, representing the release of this man, husband and father's spirit to heaven. The dove circled three times and then disappeared in the distance. As the American flag was presented to the widow, we witnessed the return of the vultures. The dove made it home safely! And there wasn't a dry eye in the whole cemetery as the casket was lowered and the bagpipes began to play again.

Do we know what we're doing or what.