Thoughts on a funeral

Great-grandma's funeral was this morning. I must say, it was the happiest funeral I've ever been to. But when someone lives to be 93, sees all her children grow up, raise their own kids to adulthood and sees her great-grandchildren arrive, it is hard to be sad at the end. She outlived her husband and most of her friends. She was at peace with passing. It was a full and happy life. She only leaves behind her cat, Bubba.

Even when her 88 year old brother stepped forward, using his cane and with assistance from his son and great-nephew, he told a funny story about her. He started out with "I'm going to tell you a secret" and I know I thought, ooh dirt! Then he said, "Dorothy was left-handed." Well, yeah we know that, we always stuck her at the end of the table every holiday, next to Mr. Incredible's brother who's also a leftie. I was a tad disappointed. But Uncle Jack went on to tell about being a young boy and getting poked in the ribs by her elbow every meal. Who couldn't smile through that?

My sister-in-law read a poem Dorothy wrote when she was 18 and a high school senior. The poem spoke of dreaming of freedom, sleeping in late, not being called on in class, having your dreams come true. It was nice. It was the only thing that brought a tear to my eye, and trust me I cry at the drop of a hat.

The funeral procession was a bit nerve wracking. We had to drive about 45 minutes through heavy suburban traffic to the cemetery. We didn't get split up and no one cut us off. We think the funeral director was a bit apprehensive about it too because he told us all at least 3 times before we left the church to use both our flashers and headlights.

Violet did great through it all. She was polite and respectful, even when she was bored out of her skull and tired. It was a late night last night at the funeral home. But I have never heard so much laughter at a wake before. It was just hard to be sad. We will miss her. I told MIL and her sister that I spent more holidays and parties and events with their mother than I did my own grandmothers. She was family.

On a quick topic of footwear. Two of Mr. Incredible's step cousins wore sandals to the wake and funeral. We were taken aback. Especially since they didn't even have glitter on them! (See Mom#1's comment from a couple days ago if you don't get the joke).

p.s. So far no one has suggested we adopt Bubba. (It has been suggested many times in the past that we would be the perfect family to take in Bubba. We don't think our 3 adult cats would take too well to him moving in.) We were afraid to go back to the house afterwards or he would have been smuggled into our car while we weren't looking. We will be looking cautiously out the door every time the doorbell rings.