About that picture

I noticed that many of you thought I looked different in that picture I posted Sunday. I guess I did. As I posted it, my mom was in the driveway honking for me to come out and get in the car, so we could go to Papa’s funeral. Yes, that Papa of the soap and cuckoo clock. Cuckoo, Papa, Cuckoo! (That link leads to all the posts I have written here that mentioned him since I started this blog in 2006.) I took the picture between doing my face and doing my hair. That’s why it’s in the clip. I stopped to get some moral encouragement from Ang. and then didn’t post it right away because I….got up to do my hair.

I did enjoy the time with my mom. We talked our heads off on the way up, and we were very early, so I was able to go to the cemetary and see Aunt Janey’s grave. And Daddy’s. I’m glad of that. I stood during the service, and I think my knees might have buckled under me if I had looked over and seen Janey’s marker without knowing it was right there before hand. I wasn’t living here when she died, so I didn’t know until yesterday where it was.

Then we did what nervous women do best, when they decide not to eat—we shopped! Lord have mercy, we shopped. And we bought clothes in the color of hot pink. Wanna see? There are shoes in there. Yeah, I thought you’d say yes. Here ya go:

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And we talked some more on the way home. I learned a lot of stuff about this crazy mixed up thing that is my family. And we love each other anyway. UNCONDITIONALLY, Aunt Marie, UNCONDITIONALLY!