Today was the funeral for my great-aunt Mary's funeral. She was 96. I took the boys to the funeral, always a gamble. But I love the stories shared at the funerals of my older relatives - it turns out they were all quite a trip during their prime. The boys were excellent. Eli fell asleep about 20 minutes in. Isaac burped once (really loud), asked for "Pops" (my dad) 6 times in 40 seconds, said "Amen" 7 times (three time during the prayer, four after) and said "YEAH" after every organ song.
The "White" side of my family (last name, not race) are all characters, in fact I think their life stories would make an interesting book. My aunt Dorty used to say she would rather walk out of the house naked then without earings - those must have been some damn impressive earings. The story goes that Uncle Clyde (my grandmother's brother) bought a Valentine and hadn't decided who to give it to. My Aunt Dorty (Clyde and my grandmother's sister) said you should give it to Mary (Dorty's best friend). It turned out OK - they were married for 70 plus years.
It is nice going to the funeral of someone who lived a long excellent life and died in peace to go to heaven. Leaves a smile on your face. Here's to Aunt Mary.
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