What I Learned From a Funeral and Other Stories

What I Learned From a Funeral

Being of the soundest mind I could possibly have, given my life, I want the record to show that you should donate what you can then cremate the rest of my body. Under no circumstances do I want people coming to gaze at my corpse. Yes, one of these days I'll have my attorney (AKA husband) put that in a legal document, known to most people as a will. Until then, you have been warned! Don't make me haunt you.

Guess who?
"Sometimes at cemeteries people stand in a circle while they put the box in the ground."
"Where did you learn that?"
"Jaws IV"

It actually is acceptable to jostle an open casket around in the middle of a viewing while family and friends look on, because it wasn't quite sitting right on the pedestal.

More people wear their keys attached to the belt loop of their nicest blue jeans than I had imagined.

What I didn't learn from a funeral, but wondered on the way to the cemetery: What happens if an emergency vehicle was traveling in the same direction as the funeral procession? I mean, I realize the emergency vehicle would have the right of way, but how could one possibly get around that line of traffic? I should have asked Morgan, she probably knew.

Other Story (not for the squeamish)

Scott calling from the back door: "Anna, can you bring me a rag...quickly?"
Anna, debating in kitchen between drawer of dish towels and roll of paper towels: "How big of a rag?"
Scott: "BIG. I dropped the pruners on my foot. Just so you know, it's bleeding...a lot."

Anna gets to door where pools of blood have developed and sees a trail leading back to the potting shed.

Anna: "Do you need me to have someone get you to the emergency room?"
Scott: "Just call my dad."

Oh, that's right, Papa Turtle, DDS. I love our family.

Dentist (AKA Dad) arrives while Anna gets Scott to sit down on the garage floor and let her apply the pressure.

Scott: "I think I might be going into shock"

He does look quite green and is sweating more profusely than even this hellish weather should permit. I don't know why. He only spurted out enough blood to supply a Wes Craven movie.

We lay the patient down and I get him some water. After working through the shock, showing Morgan his bloody foot, one trip to Walgreen's by the good doctor, an unpleasant moment involving anti-bacterial sanitizer in an open wound, butterfly bandages applied and a wet Cinderella wash cloth offered by Morgan to clean him up, he's ready for his next triathlon.

On a side note we pulled into the girls' swimming lesson a couple hours later and see the Red Cross is there and set up a big sign that reads "Blood Donors Needed". The irony.