I’ve always liked the idea of an Irish wake as a way to say goodbye to someone close. What better balm for sadness than the nearness of close friends and family with everyone talking, laughing, sharing memories. It makes sense on the one hand, if one is a believer in the afterlife: the departed have only moved to a more perfect plane of existence. That should take the tragic sting of death and turn it into a friendly caress, a pat on the shoulder, a bracing hug.

Today’s memorial for Nana, while not quite an Irish wake, was in the same spirit. (Pun not really intended.) Friends and family from Tennessee, Virginia, and both Carolinas gathered to honor Nana had lend the immediate family much-needed support.

The pictures, taken by the oldest daughter of E’s godmother M, tell the story better than I could.