Where's the Body?

     This is a true story.  Only the names have been changed.

     Father Paul had sprinkled holy water over the waxy form that displayed Army medals across the chest.  A phone rang as Father Paul addressed the mourners.  It was not a ring; it was bells ringing in wild syncopation. 
     The phone opened and closed with a slap.  Father glanced in the direction of the offender, then continued with renewed gusto.  "Sophie and Jim were the perfect example of a love affair that continued into old age.  They held each other's hand and fininshed each other's sentences.  They --"
     The cell phone started its wild cacophony again.  The offender slapped the phone shut again.
     " -- took their vows seriously to be there in sickness and in health.  Sophie didn't miss a day at the nursing --"
     When the music began for the third time, I turned in my seat.  The offender was in his nineties and obviously didn't know how to turn the device off. 
     "Where are you?" he whispered.
     I could hear the response.  "We're at the cemetery, where you told us to go.  We're driving round and round but can't find anyone.  Where are you?"
     (Whisper)  "The Memorial Chapel on Boynton Beach Boulevard.  Come over here!  How did you get this number?"
     "I called your sister-in-law in Connecticut."  The phone slapped shut again.
     "It seems someone is missing," Father Paul said.  "Have you been able to direct them here?"
     "Yes, Father.  My apologies."
     "Now tell me.  Do you think our Jim would mind if you interrupted my remarks?  Or would he say, 'The more the merrier, and let the bells ring me on my way?'"
     "I think he'd tell them not to rush, Father, since he has all the time in the world."