Thank you all for your kind comments yesterday. It was nice to turn on my mother's computer this morning and find them waiting for me.
Believe it or not, there was humor yesterday:
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Before I left yesterday, I ran about a week's worth of errands in two hours. I stopped by the shoe store, as one of my Achilles tendons was bothering me, so I thought I'd get some shoes with low heels to wear with my dressy clothes.
While there, I found some leopard print shoes with a pointy toe and a low kitten heel. They're really quite tasteful and subdued.
I called Melissa, the other half of the Dynamic Duo of Shoe Shopping, and asked her if she thought I could wear the shoes to the funeral if I wore all black otherwise.
(Yes, I know, it was very sad that she was not standing there right by my side, marveling at the splendor in front of me.)
She said she thought it was in poor taste to wear the shoes to the viewing or the funeral.
I asked if it made any difference that the other side of my grandfather's family was seriously into NASCAR, as I felt confident that I'd see at least one pair of cowboy boots and possibly even some jeans.
She thought for a moment and said no.
I asked if it helped that I could guarantee some pretty awful fashion choices on both sides of the family and that I would be chic by comparison. She still said no.
After some of the things I saw last night, I'm thinking I can still wear the damn shoes today. I'm feeling certain I'll see not only cowboy boots and jeans, but that I'll also see some anklets and toe rings too. I'm also predicting some sneakers and flip flops.
(Sorry Melissa. If it turns out I'm wrong and you were so very right, I'll apologize publicly and with witnesses.)
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Someone -- I don't know who -- opted to have an open casket, which I think is never a good choice.
I was talking about this with my stepmother last night. She looked at me and said, "If you have an open casket when I'm dead, I'll come back and haunt you."
I promised to make sure the lid is down good and tight and offered to screw it shut if that would make her happy.
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My grandmother's sister B is quite elderly, but still sharp as a tack. Her husband H, however, has Alzheimers and is almost always quite confused. I didn't expect to see Uncle H last night, but there he was, dapper in a tweed coat and tie. He always had a blunt, honest way of speaking and was funny as shit until he got sick. It turns out he is still the funniest person around.
Uncle H looked at his son G and, pointing to my Aunt K (blonde and attractive in her late 40s) asked, "Who's that?"
G replied, "That's your niece K."
Uncle H, "Is she married?"
G said, "Yes, to C, that guy over there."
(Related note: Uncle C is about 12-15 years older than my aunt. He's going through chemo right now, but I think he looks good.)
Uncle H, loudly, "You mean that old man?!"
(My Uncle C thought that was hilarious.)
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Some of my grandfather's other family -- his children by his first marriage -- were at the funeral home last night. More are expected today. One of my grandfather's grandsons is a well-known NASCAR driver.
I do not follow NASCAR and know nothing about it.
As we were looking at the flowers that had been sent yesterday, my father pointed out some that were sent by whatever team it is that the grandson races for. And some flowers were sent by someone named Tony Stewart.
I looked at my father blankly when he said this.
He said, "You know, Tony Stewart, the famous NASCAR driver."
Still, a blank look from me.
My father said he couldn't believe I didn't know who he was talking about.
I said, "Daddy, if you told me that Bill Bryson or David Sedaris had sent flowers, then I'd be impressed."
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Okay, that's all for now. My mother has a contaner of candy next to her computer and I need to step away from it now.