Constructing a Laugh

If not ill or depressed I laugh… a lot. It’s my nature. But my sister in law, who is also the BFF, does not. Hardly ever, in fact. Well, unless she sees a video of someone falling. The sort of stuff that makes me cringe. Natural gigglers like myself can have a hard time with non-gigglers.

So I set out to make her laugh.

First, I sent this picture and wrote “I picked this flower for you”.

She replied: “NICE WEED”.

Not put off at all, the next day “Badger helping me clean up the patio” (it’s horrid, no? lots of work left to do if anyone wants to raise their hand?):

No reply at all. Now that’s just rude. At least say something about the dog’s overly long nails. (A personal peeve of hers)

She must be off her meds, so I ramp things up.

“I’m now farming hydroponically”

“YOU CRACK ME UP” says she.

Mission accomplished!

My Husband is…

Romantic. Much more so than I.

He replaced the carb in the big pressure cleaner and apparently decided a love note was in order.

I love that man.

Harley

For Lawrence!

I only rode the Sportster when oldest daughter took over the Honda. Otherwise, it was my husband’s. 😉

These pictures are from the early/mid 90’s.

Surviving

Dad, early birthday.
Dad and Taffy

Dad (seated) aboard ship.

I’m having a difficult time this Christmas. It’s like going through menopause again: sadness, hysteria, anger, bursting into tears for no reason… I was sad when my adoptive parents passed, but losing my father is something completely different. And I only had him for three years! (Here comes the anger again.)

Thought it was getting better but it’s worse. Maybe after Christmas?

Many years ago after a breakup I was gifted the book “How to Survive the Loss of a Love”. It helped immensely and found it was good for other losses as well. Just ordered a new copy.

Feted and Ensconced

I loathe funerals. The entire circus: viewing, service, graveyard sobbing while the casket lowers.

Not all people feel this way of course. Funerals tend to be great family reunions. Folks take pictures of the body in the coffin, selfies of themselves with the body and gather in groups for photos that resemble a cheerful event such as a fish fry or church picnic. I can’t count the number of times I asked my mom to identify a group of black and white people (yeah, I’m old) only to hear her reply “Oh, that was taken at Uncle Ollie’s funeral”. To name only one.

My (adopted) father’s funeral in 1978 was about as surreal an event as I’d ever encountered. The body in the coffin didn’t resemble the man I knew in the least and the Baptist preacher pressed into service had a speech impediment and called my father ‘Johnny’, which might have earned him a punch in the nose had the man himself not been dead as a doornail. The graveside service was where I finally woke to the fact that we were going to leave my father there, in the ground. I was the last to leave; the hardest thing I’d done so far in my short life.

I’ve not attended a funeral since and don’t intend to do so. When the inevitable happens I want a Viking send off – well, the cheap redneck version. Put me in a rowboat and push it off into the water armed with an explosive on a timer. Then forget about me because I’m long gone.

While I type this my birth father, whom I’ve had the pleasure of knowing and loving these last three years, is having his funeral in another state. Hope they take good pictures of each other.

Gone

Mac
1972

My Dad is gone. At least I was able to meet him and have a loving relationship with him for a few years.

Remember: Rust never sleeps.

Siblings

Lisa, Tom, *me, Pat

So, my two sisters and one of my brothers decided to come see me – they flew in Thursday and left this morning. It’s slightly surreal, to suddenly have family.. but a very, very good thing because they’re wonderful people. Warm, friendly, accepting… just the best. I love Tom’s wife as well. She feels like another sister.

There are two brothers and my father to meet, so I’ll do that… sooner rather than later.

*We were rained on while at the beach, so I’m dorky looking and my hair was weird. Add a big mole and put me in the circus!

Father

My father Saturday after the Veteran’s Day ceremony.

mac112018

This man kills me. I hadn’t had a father since 1978, and suddenly, I did. My emotions are all over the place. When we speak on the phone I giggle like a 5 year old with a feather to her feet. When he writes sweet things in his emails I break down and cry!! I’d like to even off soon…

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