You know when the phone rings before the sun rises that news on the other end will not brighten your day.

We learned this morning a giant spirit broke free and his body fell to earth. It was not unexpected, just too soon. My wife's father has gone on ahead and left us behind.

After the initial scramble of calls to siblings scattered in six states and grandchildren in others, a date was set for the memorial service; plans were initiated for the celebration; reservations were made for the meal afterwards; a hotel was secured for travelers; and the search began for funeral clothes.

What do you wear to a funeral for a man who wrote 17 years ago that he wants his service to be a celebration? My daughter called to ask, "Why black?"

"Black is so depressing," said this fourth grade teacher whose own life and smile erase depression in others like an ice cream cone. "Why not wear bright colors if we're going to celebrate grandpa's life?"

She was shopping for something appropriate. At age 26 she's not been to many funerals and resisted the notion that black is the only appropriate color to wear in the presence of death, especially when the man of honor was a Christian giant who looked forward to joining the heavenly choir.

My wife sorted through her closet and had more options fit for a funeral. Was this too dressy? Is this too plain? Do I have shoes to go with this?

It will be only family gathered in the hospice chapel so certainly there is no need or even opportunity to impress. And dad is fine with anything, homespun to Hermes.

More than anything, picking out clothes to wear to the funeral is a way to actively engage the hours before the plane leaves.

It is a hypercondensed version of life. We pick out spouses, careers, activities, professions, hobbies and interests to engage the hours before our own plane leaves.

When making your selections, pick bright colors.