. 
Epilog. 
Sadness  over the holidays affects all of us in  different ways. 
For some it’s the loss of a family  member  for others it may be a  friend or 
a pet . 
I can assure you , and my brothers in the  stone and the dust  will agree,  
that the loss of the holiday punch was  devastating. Words cannot describe…. 
With tears welled  in our eyes  we held each other  but despite life’s  
setbacks  the human spirit  often rallies  . 
Choking back the disappointment   the team were determined to stand  up for 
what they believe in   
All the men , even the frugal grave  diggers began digging into dusty overall 
pockets and producing crumpled and  crimpled notes both  large and small 
until a collection was  made  that would make an Irish monk  blush . 
There was enough for not only all the punch  and the  purloined  hors de 
oeuvres but they even put  in  for a bottled rose bud  to be sent  to the good 
woman who was hospitalized.   
After all  her misfortune was our misfortune   If working in the graveyard 
has  taught us one thing ….. it is we’re   all in this together. 
The punch was made just as the Long Dongs  arrived; within the hour 
renditions of the funky chicken and the Texas two-step  were being displayed atop the 
holiday table and on others  nearby. 
Men danced happy with men, making slurred  speeches and tipsy honorariums 
over the Long  Dongs. 
Even the hospital called informing us that  the woman was ok on the mend and 
oh by the way …  where could they  send the bill ? ..   
To the man we passed the phone around  while each man “splained  that  we wuz 
in the graveyard,  “ 
‘Where”? came the often-repeated reply  , 
A chorus began in the background singing off  key Cow Boy and Christmas songs 
  when they finally put me on . 
Yes Mam… that was  IN .. “The Graveyard” …I said over  all the caterwauling 
  
I think she believed me. Because   when she hung the phone down she  said 
that we sounded   “Dead  awful.”  
Py ..