I just got back yesterday, after a mad dash to Illinois and back. Diane’s Mom passed away last week and the funeral was Tuesday. Last minute airfare being what it is *hint- ridiculously expensive* the only choice was to make the drive. So I left central North Carolina around 5:00 Monday morning and drove to the Greater Elgin area, paid my respects Tuesday to a truly lovely woman, and started making my way back Tuesday afternoon.
I have thoughts and comments about the driving portion of my week thus far, but before I bury the lede and wreak literary havoc upon the drivers sharing the road with me, I need to say a few words about my Mother-In-Law.
If you know any of us either IRL or at least on social media, you’ve probably seen the outpouring of emotions in describing what Laurelle meant to my kids and grandkids. They all did a wonderful job painting the picture of what she meant to us and I’m not sure I can say anything that hasn’t already been said. But I’m about to give it a shot.
I used the word “lovely” in the opening paragraph and I meant it. From the start, Laurelle was exactly that. She welcomed me, my kids, and grandkids into her family unhesitatingly and I don’t believe the word “step” was in her vocabulary. We were all part of her family and that was that. And so much more. She was, quite possibly, the only person that loved poor puns as much as I do and she threw them out with great flair and regularity. She was not afraid to laugh at her own puns too and that just added to the enjoyment. She enjoyed teasing, about any number of things, those she cared about and was always gracious on the receiving end when that time came. She was a large, probably the largest, part of the sense of humor that endeared Diane (and her siblings) to me and even though their eyes weren’t a color match, they shared the same spark of pure joy that was visible from across a crowded room. I have many fond memories of practical jokes played back and forth between Laurelle and Caitlin. Like Caitlin hiding in a laundry hamper and jumping out at the last minute to startle her Grandma. Or a long running gag that involved one of them being called “dumb” and the other being called “stupid”.
But Laurelle was so much more than just a comedienne. She was, without question, the most devout person I’ve ever met. Granted, I don’t spend a lot of time hanging around people of great faith, but I’d match her devotion to her faith with anyone, anytime, anywhere. And while I didn’t share her views on everything, I always respected them, keeping my cynicism and skepticism at bay. Whenever we met in the time I spent with the pirate and in the time since, she would always tell me she prayed for my happiness. It always meant a lot to me (still does and always will btw) because I recognized the place it was coming from. Absolute sincerity. And the fact that, no matter what may have been going on in her life, she found the time to consider me and my emotional well-being in her private moments with her Maker was not something to be taken casually.
The service was much like any other, in the way that it was a chance to see old friends and family members and it’s an opportunity to be cherished even as we mourn the passing. I saw one of Diane’s besties, Lorraine, for the first time in many years and she and I shared a couple laughs from the past as we caught up. I also saw a few nieces and nephews that I hadn’t seen in a while and the changes over the years ranged from multiple (adorable) kids, to venturing out on new careers, to facial hair. Nephews only on the facial hair part. Just sayin’
One last thing about this week. I don’t know if any of you share this, but I feel like it’s probably pretty common, so…
They make me flash back on final services for others I’ve either attended or been a part of. Also, funerals tend to make me look at my own mortality. And I spent a lot of time thinking about my own shuffle off this mortal coil. Oftentimes there are things we know we should do, but for one reason or another, procrastination kicks in and we leave them undone. Wills, for instance. I know I should have one… but… yeah… you see… it’s like this… I don’t. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care what happens to me or my stuff after the fact. So I sat down at the keyboard the other night and emailed a few thoughts to the progeny (which, btw, sounds so much better than “fruit of my loins” don’t you think?) to try to get some stuff right. For example, I want to donate not just my organs, but my entire body. I’m sure I’d make for an interesting trip around the cadaver lab at a medical school somewhere. “Jesus, how did this guy live THIS long?” or something. I want my memorial service to be light-hearted. Or, at least as light-hearted as funerals can be, you know? Tell stories of stupid shit I did and leave people laughing. If you’re going to shed tears at my passing, I’d much rather they be tears of laughter. I don’t know what awaits me (see my faith comments above) but I’m comfortable in the belief that whatever or wherever it may be, I’ve lived a great life. I’ve experienced more love and joy than I was probably entitled to, so I’ll ask no questions when it’s time and gladly take what I’ve been given.
Nothing profound as I close, rather the familiar. Love the ones you’re with and live each moment as if it was your last.
One day, for each of us, it will be.
Peace