The funeral that is. I think just knowing that is was coming kind of enveloped me in some sort of gloomy fog. I have definitely been somewhat tense over the past few days. But it's all over now! But not without the typical glitches...I rushed around yesterday and got the cookies baked and some lemon bars for the "thing" afterwards. I don't know what that "thing" is called. Also got everyone's clothes ironed, except Jim's because I figured he'd take care of that himself. The only problem was that the skirt I had planned on wearing ended up being too big when I tried it on...after I'd ironed it. Once I got to the top of it with the iron, I realized the elastic waist looked big. I had worn this same skirt when I was pregnant...so perhaps it was stretched out. I decided to quickly iron a pair of pants which would go with the top for the skirt rather than starting all over. I pretty much envisioned myself playing outside with the kids anyway...

And so 30 minutes before we need to leave Jim is blissfully playing on the computer and I say to him, "How long does it take to get to this church anyway?"

"15 minutes. Oh crap, I need to stop this and go do that," meaning he needed to iron his clothes. 20 minutes later he came up dressed in a three piece suit. And I'm wearing pants...very casual. So I wasn't happy...

"You said it would be OK if I wore pants. You're wearing a suit!"

"It's a funeral honey," which I took to mean I was being stupid for wearing pants. But, he actually didn't mean that. He cleared that up later in the car when I asked him about it. "It's just what I wear to funerals. I'll probably be over dressed. You're fine. Don't worry about it."

And so, off we go. Late. Jim starts driving in a direction I didn't expect him to go and so I say, "I thought this church was off of 97."

He smirked, "Yes, you can definitely get there off of 97. But I'm going a different way." And that's when it started. The little thing in the bottom of my stomach that said..."we're going to the wrong damn church!" We arrived at the church and I said, "Your dad said Calvary Chapel or something. Not Granite Baptist...you said you knew which church!"

"You said it was the church Erica went to for preschool. This is that church," Jim said. "What do you want to do?"

"Drive around and see if your parents car is here. Otherwise, it's the wrong church."

No car. It was the wrong church. We went back to Jim's parents house where the "thing" would be after some discussion about going home first. Which seemed stupid to me...to drag the kids back home only to leave again an hour later. Jim's parents have a great back yard with a play set in the back. The kids could play there until the "thing" started. I kept thinking about Jim's mom and how I would feel if my brother died and then one of my kids didn't show up for the funeral. I felt awful. I smoked one cigarette, but it sucked. Didn't even smoke the whole thing. I think I'm really done this time.

In the middle of all this Jim's brother, Jae called and told Jim where the church was. The memorial service hadn't started yet. "Do you want to go?" he asked.

"I'm not loading the kids back into the car. Why don't you go. See if Mike wants to go with you," I said.

"I don't want you to be mad at me if I leave you alone here with the kids, " said JIm.

"Just go. I said. I'm not mad and you need to be there for your mom."

He went. I stayed and chased the kids around outside for awhile, trying to keep the inside of the house in reasonable shape. Then we went inside to watch veggie tales. Mike stayed outside until he climbed on the roof of the play-set after I told him not to (No car...how am I going to take him to the ER if he falls off??). Soon after everyone else arrived. I didn't know any of these people save about 5 of them. They all seemed very nice. One of Jim's cousins is going to take our old baby swing. That's always good...too pass along the love.

In the midst of all of this I have to say how much I love my brother-in-law, Jae. He somehow seems to always add levity to situations. Jae, well, Jae "plays for the other team." He told me he had something new under his clothes I couldn't see.

"OOHH...is it a tatoo?" I said.

"NO....I got the patch. I'm quitting smoking," he said.

"OH, I would've been more excited if it were a tatoo. Not that I'm upset you're quitting smoking. That is a good thing," I backed myself up.

"The tatoo is in the works," he said.

"What're you getting?" I asked excitedly.

"Well," He said looking at me with a glint in his eye and a smirk on his lips,"I think I want a scorpion, with a male symbol in one claw and the world in the other. Believe me, I could get away with that."

That's Jae. He's a total scream. He also leaned over to me while I was talking with Jim's cousin who is totally bald and said, "I also started with Rogaine." Gotta love Jae. He was the best part of the "thing."

All this to say...Please no funeral for me. Spend the money on some children's charity. You KNOW that's what I'd want. Dispose of my remains as cheaply as is reasonably possible. Cremate me or chop me up and use me for fertilizer. I don't care. And if you want to get together and eat that's fine by me. I love to eat so that seems fitting. But please, no somber funeral thing. It's just not me. Unless you give me one of those New Orleans Jazz style funeral parade things. That would be OK...but just the parade part. That's all. No tombstone. I've written enough of this drivel for endless tombstones. There's plenty laying around to tell others about my life. I hope my children tell the story of me better than any tombstone could anyway.

Blessings....

Laura