Monday, January 30, 2012
I don't like....
I'd like to thank Jeorgie. He's the man. He put a new headlight in my car, Hunny Girl. She's so happy that she's not cock-eyed anymore!
Tonight was taco night. Blaine enjoyed it. I couldn't eat the lettuce or the tomatoes. I had some meat, a little cheese, sour cream, and salsa with tortilla strips.
I've been pretty sad lately. My uncle Sammy passed away this past Friday. He was the uncle that was always around. I slept over at his house anytime my mom would let me.
His daughters are just a little older and a little younger. I remember standing on my grandparent's storm cellar (Momma wouldn't let me go further) and yelling for them to come out and play.
When we first moved to Greers Ferry I was in the first grade. There were only two first grade classes and my cousin Aimee was in the same grade. When they didn't put me in her class, I cried like the world was ending. I got moved. :-)
My Uncle Sammy was one of those funny guys. He always had a smile and funny story to tell. I don't remember him ever being mean to me or getting on to me (I'm sure he did, I just don't remember it!)
Even when he felt bad, he was still smiling every time I saw him. That says a great deal about a person's character. Even though you feel like crap, you still wanna smile, even if it's just until I leave.
This is the third uncle I've had pass away in the past seven months. I know this is just part of getting older. I still don't like it.
It always tickles me when folks say, "I don't like going to funerals" "I don't like going to hospitals" "I don't like going to nursing homes" "I don't like feeling sad" "I don't like getting shots" "I don't like a poke in the eye"
My response is always, "Who does?" I hesitate to say Nobody likes any of those things, but I feel that most people don't. It's just normal to dislike something that makes us face our own mortality or causes us pain.
I don't like to think about dying. I don't like to think about being alone. I don't like the thought of being forced to ask for help when I get older. But who does?
Some people don't like the idea of people looking at them after they die. They don't want a service or any of the hoopla. Me, I want it all.
I'd be happy if it were a big ol' party and folks just told every embarrassing story they could remember about me (they are plenty!)
I really don't want the old funeral songs sung. Beulah land, Precious Memories, etc.
But since I'll be dead, I don't get to pick.
Just miss me when I'm gone.