This started with an old man who was at a diner I went to regularly once a week. He was in his 80s, his daughter worked there. We'd always share a joke or the news. I didn't know his name, just called him Hoss. He loved chewing tobacco and jesus and his daughter. He was a carpenter.
Sometimes I think "wow you have been a pall bearer a lot" and then I remind myself I can think of no higher honor than holding those I love one last time. Your legs might have failed you, but I won't friend. Not today, not ever. Of course I will carry you. As ever.