Born, like other comic book characters, out of an otherwise trivial but life-changing animal bite, the Rabid Librarian seeks out strange, useless facts, raves about real and perceived injustices, and seeks to meet her greatest challenge of all--her own life.
A little shorter, of course, with the funeral on Monday, which was very nice. All three sons got up and shared memories. It was a good turnout. We didn't go to the internment due to the bitter cold and wind; the family had a big potluck later and our friend was set for food, so we gave the family some space to mourn.
She had such a lovely personality, and I miss her very much.
After Monday, of course, it was back to work, but it was a normal week without being overwhelmed, and Friday was actually the way Fridays should be, a good day to play catch up. I'm keeping track of what I'm doing each day for my boss (as are my department co-workers), and I actually do quite a lot and am very busy, and this is borne out in my log, and it's giving me a greater perspective on how much time it's taking to do what, so it's been useful. My partner downstairs has been helping with the off sites as she was caught up with her things, and that's been very helpful. We actually have all but four scheduled, and of the four, one is a coordination of different departments that is being worked on at the university, one is a problem one that was scheduled but I'm trying to get rescheduled to an earlier time, one is in the hands of the sedation scheduler there and I'm just waiting to hear back, and one I'm waiting for word from a care manager, as theirs is scheduled a month away and both family and the doctor want it earlier but the university has nothing, so I've asked if it can go to another facility. I'm using two different facilities beyond the university as its schedule is such that I can't get anything within a month for any type of ultrasound or MRI, and when I cancelled an ultrasound I'd taken for January but was able to get next week at another facility I let them know why. Really, I'd like to schedule there but there's roadblock after roadblock.
Yesterday I did my friend's laundry, my shelves to dust, and some things around the house, but mostly it was relaxing. We went over to my friend's house whose mother had died, and we had fish from Captain D's and visited for a while. There was a big storm that blew up just as I got back with the fish, and it really rained and thundered. Today, however, it is up in the 60s and sunny but also windy, and I have my laundry to do and just a few things around the house. Not bad for the second day of December. We're going to see Fantastic Beasts: the Crimes of Grindelwald today, his treat. I'm out of my free passes from work, but I've taken care of most of the movies we've gone to in the last couple of years with them, and last time (for The House with a Clock in its Walls) I was able to do both the free passes and a gift card for the concessions, all because they were employee appreciation gifts over the years.
I did some drawings earlier. I never had anything beyond third-grade art, and I would like to draw better. I used to do it almost obsessively, doodling a lot. I haven't drawn in years. Anyway, I have this book on drawing basics called Drawing for Everyone by Bruce Waldman and drew some things based on the first two chapters. YKWIA, who is an artist, looked them over and said the main problem was that I was very timid about shading and needed to do so with more confidence. Otherwise, they look pretty ghostly.
I think I'll do some reading before we go. It's been a while and my book awaits. I'm still reading that Kate Morton book, and I'm only about a fifth of the way through (it's 530 pages).
I'm dressed and ready; YKWIA is shaving. We have to be there in an hour. It's cold outside, much cooler than yesterday (the high I think is supposed to be 39 degrees). The crows have been taunting the dog; the starlings have been flying in a flock up and down in the yard. It is very windy.
The kitten went into the bathroom during each of our showers. He is careful not to get wet, but he likes to keep us company. The cat is asleep on my bed, something he usually only gets to do on weekends after breakfast, as I keep my room closed so the kitten will not play with wires or orchid roots during the day.
Tomorrow I'll have to get up much earlier and go to work. Today my backup is dealing with the stuff I normally do, and I'm grateful, as I need a break.
I just wish the break hadn't included Mrs Fore's passing. She was such a lovely person. I will miss her terribly. I've only known her since April, but she was so good to us, and really rather adopted us both.
Okay, I have some final things to do before we go. Hope you had a good Thanksgiving break (if you're in the US, anyway). Otherwise, at least I hope you had a good weekend.
very nice. I've read. I've relaxed, taking a nap here and there. I've listened to music, and I've done stuff around the house like raking leaves (again) to try to get ready for the vacuuming truck that comes by. I got 2/3 of the yard done this afternoon, and I'll try to do the rest tomorrow. I came inside to hydrate and got caught up in a 'Black Mirror' episode, and realised I was really tired and with the game called off tomorrow, it could wait till tomorrow, when the weather's supposed to be a little better anyway. I have a two-foot pile of leaves in the road verge at the moment; it'll just grow a little bigger. Most of the main leaves are already there.
Tomorrow I'll do my normal Sunday tasks: floors, bathroom, trash/recyclables, laundry, and cat litter boxes. I did the dishes tonight so I think they're okay. But the evening will visitation for the little lady who died, whom I cared a good deal about. I'm going to take my friend over that afternoon to help with my other friend, who will be in a wheelchair so he can attend the family hour of visitation, and then I'll come at the regular time for the public. I would take our friend, but my car is an old Ford Taurus that is so low to the ground that we have trouble getting in and out of it, much less someone with mobility issues. I am not a big fan of visitation--I find it a bit morbid, to be honest. But for her, I'll do it. She was such a wonderful person, who lit up a whole room. I was looking at Thanksgiving flowers the other day and found myself thinking about bringing some, and then remembered that she was gone. That's the worst thing, I think, after someone dies--all the little things you want to share with them that evaporate in your mind as soon as you realise they have passed and you'll never share with them again. It brings the pain up all over again. That was certainly the case for me when my mom died.
So for now, though, I'm listening to Mumford & Sons, trying to decide whether I should 1) go to bed or 2) read some more. The book (Kate Morton's The Distant Hours) is very well-written, the prose is lovely, and I'm about 50 pages in and I like how it's unfolding. But I'm a little tired. I'm in my pyjamas and I've brushed my teeth. I'm ready for bed.
Today I got something I'd ordered as a lightning deal from Amazon, which I almost never do. It's 128 GB SD card that is meant to go in a camera but can also go in laptops with the right reader, and I have one on mine. I got it for $19.95, which was roughly half of the normal price, and it works, it's inserted into my computer, and I've backed up some files to it. It's not great as a long-term storage option (they do break down over time, just like flash drives), but it was cheap and easy and while I have my documents backed up in other places (OneDrive, Dropbox), after what happened with the Windows update in October when I lost all my documents, I thought that it would make a good local option that wasn't at the mercy of cloud providers, and I can't afford a USB removable hard drive at the moment. Also, if something happened to my laptop I could just switch out the card like I do with the microSD card in my phone (that has pictures and music on it). So we'll see how it works out. I took a few minutes earlier to back things up to the card and to the cloud. I need to do that with the desktop, which YKWIA uses. I also spent some time yesterday at the storage unit (looking for a couple of cutting boards, with no luck) and found my Civilization IV game, and so I pulled out the old DVD-ROM external drive I have here (it's from when computers didn't have them yet, and my computer is so 'advanced' it doesn't have one at all, so even though it's a little slow and clunky, it works--although not to play CDs lately, something in one of the Microsoft updates apparently broke that, too, so I guess the only CDs I'll buy in the near future are ones with AutoRip, where they do it for you, as otherwise, I can't get the CD music on my phone. Anyway, it does work for CD-ROMs, and I was able to get the game onto this computer, so I'm happy, as it's one of the few games I ever play consistently.
Okay, I guess I'm just babbling about my life now. It's going pretty well. Work is still stressful but not as much as it had been. I am very blessed right now. I do feel a little guilty posting the pictures of Thanksgiving and the abundance of food for two people. I live paycheque-to-paycheque, and I don't feel particularly affluent at all, but on the other hand, I have so much compared to some--a home to go to, food to eat, great companionship, and relatively good health, really. I don't mean to flaunt it, but I think of the homeless, or the starving children in Yemen, or the refugees seeking asylum, etc., and I do feel guilty, although I really was just trying to express how grateful I am for life right now. I don't have enough money to donate to any causes right now, it's been a struggle lately, and we had to pool our resources to make Thanksgiving happen, but maybe I could volunteer some time around Christmas. Which reminds me, I guess I need to get some cards to send out. We don't really celebrate Christmas, as I'm pagan (I celebrate the Winter Solstice, Yule) and YKWIA is Jewish. But the holiday season is still a good time to think of others. Chanukah, which of course is a minor holiday in the Jewish year, although most Christians, I think, just see it as Jewish Christmas, is coming up quickly--it starts December 2nd. My plan is to get YKWIA some good house shoes, as his shoes have nearly died. (I can say that here, as he doesn't read my blog, because as he puts it, he knows what goes on in my life). But I'll have to wait till the next payday, which happens in the middle of Chanukah.
Okay, the cat wants to cuddle, the music has stopped. Time to go to bed. Good night.
It was a lot of work. I think we had about ten dishes overall: the Quorn 'turkey' (made from mycoprotien/fungous/mushrooms), rolls, gougers (this time with Bleu cheese), butternut squash with Gruyère cheese, curried pumpkin soup (also made with butternut squash, so much easier to peel than the kabocha was a few years ago), mashed potatoes (of course), green beans with shallots, Brussels sprouts with chestnuts, homemade cranberry and sauce with red wine, and pumpkin/caramel pie (the latter two were cooked/baked on Wednesday night). The pied took a while to come out and cool, so we were up late then, and got a late start on Thanksgiving, starting the preparation and cooking about 12:30 in the afternoon. We ate around 5:30 pm. I think it was the best Thanksgiving we've ever done. Afterwards, I cleaned up (that was a task), and he put everything into containers and into the fridge because he's good at spatial relations and can damn near bend space, if not time. Here are some photos:
We were both asleep by 8 pm, although I did wake up and woke him up at 11 so we both could take our medicine. We weren't up very long, though.
I slept well, and was able to sleep in till about 9 am or so as I'm off today. I'm actually off till Tuesday, as I have a funeral to go to, for the mother of a friend, the latter of whom had adopted me like a granddaughter. She'd just had her 94th birthday, and was a lovely woman with a huge personality that just lit up the room. I'll miss her a lot. The visitation is Sunday night so we won't be playing the game. I'm going to take my roommate early so he can help our friend (who has cancer) during the family visitation.
But today is a relaxation day. We'll take our friend some food. I'll stop by the storage unit and finally put my summer clothes in it [they were in my room for a good long while, and then the car]. I need to go by the library and take back The Rabbit-Proof Fence by Doris Pilkington, which I have out from interlibrary loan, now that I finished it this morning. I'm also going to take back some CDs, and Imagine Dragons one and one by OneRepublic. I plan on starting The Distant Hours by Kate Morton, which YKWIA had checked out and said was excellent, so I wanted to give it a try.
I guess that's all for now. I plan on getting some rest before going back to work. Days off are rare.
I drove back from Danville today. It's been raining for two days; it seems to always rain for funerals, although of course they happen on sunny days, too, but it still seems to, at least in our family. I did alright on the trip down until I reached the Danville city limits, and everything suddenly seemed very real. I met my aunts and uncles at the funeral home at 9 am (the family usually arrives an hour before visitation for a private visitation). My step-father came up. I must say, the staff of the funeral home (Preston-Pruitt-Spurlin) were very attentive and good at striking that difficult balance of being available when needed and generally in the background so the focus is on celebrating the deceased life. I would highly recommend them.
I have trouble with visitations usually, and in my own funeral plans, there isn't one. There seems to be something a little strange about chatting around a dead body, at least as far as I am concerned. However, I realise it often helps some with the grieving process. But at the very first visitation I attended, my great-grandfather's corpse looked very life-like, and my great-grandmother, who had Alzheimer's, stood up from her wheelchair and begged him to wake up. It made a lasting impression.
They did a good job with Momma, but in the end, the body is still just a shell, and it wasn't really my mother there in the casket. Still, it was hard seeing her there. There were quite a few people who came by, about half her family and about half people John knew. My workplace sent a giant peace-lily for the funeral, and the flowers were in various shades of pink and red, which went well with the lighting and Momma's pure white casket.
The intention had been to have photos on a loop on a screen during the visitation, but they could only do that using a CD rather than the jump drive they were on. Still, people connected and shared memories.
The service went well. I'm not Christian, but my mother was a member, like her parents before her, of Gethsemane Baptist Church, and the pastor there did the service, which did involve preaching and payer, but at least he had met my mom and talked with her more than once. When my great-grandmother, the one with Alzheimer's, died, the preacher had apparently not seen her, as he declared her to have been infirm in body but sharp in mind, which was complete lie.
John requested two songs to be played, 'In the Garden' and 'Amazing Grace', the latter on the bagpipes. That brought some tears to my eyes when it played. I remember my mom being so upset at my grandfather's funeral that they played the song on some sort of recorded bell, rather than on the pipes, when my grandfather had wanted it in full Scottish fashion. That was another funeral home, of course. My mom was a stickler for details in funerals. At my grandmother's my mom was annoyed that the casket had pink carnations on it instead of pink roses, my grandmother's choice. So I'm glad hers went well. Instead of flowers on the casket, John had brought in a quilt she had loved and they laid that on it, and the colours worked well with the flowers that people sent.
After the service, we drove as part of the funeral cortege a few blocks to the cemetery. I've never actually driven in one, before. The Danville police escorted us and did an excellent job. At the cemetery entrance, one blocked the oncoming lane and stood at attention. It was very respectful and I appreciated it.
After the graveside service, we went back and got the flowers, and then met up at Cheddar's to eat and visit. I went back to the hotel my family was staying at and changed clothes and got out of the pantyhose (which I had found at Meijer's actually, along with some underwear.) We went and visited with my cousin Buddy for awhile and then ate dinner at Cracker Barrel, and I had a good meal despite the fact that I don't eat meat, except for fish. It's a little bit of a challenge with 'country-style' cooking, but I had lemon pepper rainbow trout with a baked sweet potato, fried apples, and macaroni and cheese. Buddy picked up the entire tab; my aunt and uncle had picked up lunch for John and me, and then I stayed in their hotel room on a pull-out sofa bed, so my trip there cost nothing but the gas, for which I was very grateful. I am so glad my family was there for so many reasons; they were a great comfort.
I'm doing pretty well emotionally. I've never been particularly demonstrative upon the death of a loved one; it usually comes in short bouts of emotion for a few days, and I've been very fortunate in that my relatives' deaths have not be untimely, for the most part. Momma had been in pain for some time, a constant string of bouncing back between hospital, nursing home, and home, and apparently the last few days were nearly unbearable.
I must give a special thanks to John, her husband, who saw her through all that and helped her bear it all.
So while there is an empty place in my life where my mother had been, I can't say I am sad to the point of devastation at her death. It was time. It was kinder to let her go. None of us wanted to see her continue to suffer, although it was hard to let go. I think I came to terms with it before my step-father did; he saw her every day. I saw her every few weeks and could see just how quickly the toll her illness was having on her. My mom was only 69. She looked much older, and had wasted away to almost nothing. It's sad to see her go; I will miss her, of course, but I am glad her suffering is at an end. I keep feeling like I should be grieving more demonstrably; this was my mother, after all, and we were very close once upon a time. But I guess grief comes in many forms. I keep finding myself thinking of talking to her or showing her something, and it's like I suddenly remember she isn't there, and that's when I'm sad.
I'm writing this on the laptop while lying in bed, which isn't the best, of course. I think it's time to close. I think I'll take one more day off (I have three days of bereavement leave) alone to sort out my emotions. Yesterday and today were about family and friends. Tomorrow I want to take some time to myself and, as they say, decompress. Good night.
I shuttled my friends to their appointment, to the store, and got A to work, helped YKWIA a bit at home, and then came home, tired (I couldn't sleep last night after cooking till late at YKWIA's--I think I was finally able to get to sleep at about 3:30 am, so my insomnia is continuing somewhat). It was a bright, sunny afternoon and had warmed up quite a bit, so I opened the bedroom window, got into some comfy clothes, and took a nap. I'm thinking that was about 4 or so. Now I'm awake and it's 7:40. That might cause an issue later tonight, but at least I slept well for a bit.
My aunts and uncles are going to be able to come in for the visitation and funeral, which is Monday. The ones in Georgia are driving up tomorrow, and the ones in Texas, bless their hearts, were working overtime to find a flight in, and the closest they could get was Nashville, and then drive three hours. So they're travelling tomorrow, too. I'm not sure about my cousins--one is on the West Coast for work and can't come, another is in meetings in Georgia, but I'm glad my mom's sister and brother and their spouses will be able to.
I need to pick my friend up from work tonight and tomorrow night, so I'll drive down on Monday morning. It's about 35 miles away, so not too bad, and I'll be going against morning traffic. I have a dress picked out (thanks to YKWIA, who informed me that the dress I wore to my grandmother's funeral would need more than Spanx to fit correctly). It's a dress I bought for a vow renewal a few years ago, a deep purple covered in black lace--not exactly ideal, but it's nice, respectful (well, if I wear a camisole under that neckline, and I think my mom would approve.) I do need to find some hose to go with it, which can be a challenge at my size (there's a reason I wear summer skirts and otherwise pants). I may actually have to break down and go to the Evil Empire (aka Walmart), where I do not usually shop. We'll see.
Tomorrow we are not playing the game. I could probably have used the distraction, but on the other hand, will have a little extra time to do some things. I also desperately need to do laundry tomorrow. I actually went out to Gabriel Brothers the other night looking for underwear (they usually have my size, unlike most other places in town that aren't a 'plus-sized women's' store, and much cheaper, because with YKWIA sick, I haven't done my laundry. But I had no luck. Fortunately I dug around and found some to get me through tomorrow. So I'll go over there and do that and help him out if needed, or maybe we'll watch something on streaming video.
I also realised today that I missed renewing some books that were due the day she died, which I rectified, so I have some fines. I've paused my tracking, to-do items on Habitica so that by not doing them I will not affect the members of my party. Funny how little things slip and then come to mind later in times like this. I've e-mailed my family back and forth, and texted with my step-father, who sounds exhausted. I've texted that I won't be to work to my bosses (well, I know I got through to one; the other may be an old number, so I'll leave a message at work as well). I'll get some gas tomorrow for the trip. I had thought about staying down in a hotel Monday night. I'll keep it as an option, but for now, the plan is to just go down, go to the visitation and service, go the the graveside and know where she is to be buried, and maybe out to eat and spend some time with my family, then come back that evening. I may take Tuesday off , though, as I have three days' bereavement leave, and I'm not sure it's really hit yet, and may not until the actual funeral.
I debated contacting my estranged father to let him know she had died. We haven't spoken since 1993. but I know where he is on Facebook and could get a hold of him if I wanted to. But I quickly discarded that idea. He basically abandoned us in the 80s to pursue other women and a freer life without us, and I suspect he always felt rather trapped by my mother, who got pregnant before they broke up, then found out, and within a month his mom had pressured him to marry her. My mom's parents, I will say, were very good, and even though it was the 60s, offered to let her live at home and not go the marriage route. It's amazing the marriage lasted as long as it did, really.
My dad and I went our separate ways after my grandmother's funeral, when he lied to me and told me the insurance money was part of the estate and instead of asking me to help with expenses, demanded the money ($5,000, at a time when I was a student eating every other day, and he was an engineer who moved to Minnesota for an extra $30,000 a year and who had a policy in his name, as well, for twice that). When I told him I wouldn't give it to him on the advice of my grandfather and YKWIA, he hung up on me, and that was that.
This is a man who moved us to another state, after they sold the house at a loss and my mom lost seniority at work, just so he could then tell her while we were in the motel that he was seeing someone else and wanted a divorce. It was devastating, and it took her years to get over the financial and other repercussions. He doesn't deserve to know.
Besides, while she had four husbands total (one of whom she was widowed by), her current husband and she were together longer than any of them (my dad was about 16 years; John has that surpassed). John has been incredibly good to my mom, and has been a great companion, who took care of her in her illness day in and day out, and I can't thank him enough for being there. I couldn't have done it, even without working.
When I was growing up, my mom and I were inseparable, even enmeshed to a great degree by the time I reached adulthood. As an only child, there'd just been the two of us, especially while my father was overseas and then when he left. As I got older, though, we drifted apart, and we were not as close as many moms and daughters that I know. We each had our own lives, and checked in with each other every few weeks, and then I'd go visit about every three months or so, and at the holidays. Momma tended to reach out to me more when she wasn't married, as she didn't have as much going on. As years went on and I did a lot of examination, I realised a lot of my issues came from our relationship rather than just my issues with my dad. And we talked about them a little, and we worked some of that out, but generally, we just lived our own lives and then came together every now and then. But we never cut ties like my dad and I did.
Despite that, I have found myself constantly thinking things over the last few days that bring my mom to mind. 'Oh, I should tell Momma that. Wait, I can't.' or 'Momma would love this blouse I found. But she'll never see it.' That sort of thing. I guess that's to be expected, but it hurts. The finality is starting to sink in.
Finally, let me just say that having watched the effects of end-stage liver disease, and even though she was never able to get a liver or even be placed on the list for one, she held out hope for that, and it would have changed her life around for the better. Please consider being an organ donor. There are thousands of people living, barely, who would benefit from that call that says, come in, we have a (insert organ here), that will have their lives transformed for the better. You won't need them any more. Why not donate life in your passing?
Okay, I'm going to sign off for now. I've been typing for an hour. Funny, I usually listen to music to relax, even more than anything else, and I've had trouble doing that since she died, because certain lyrics cause me to cry, etc. The only song I've sought out has been Rob Thomas' 'Now Comes the Night', a song I'd like played at my own funeral. I find it comforting. Here it is:
from my grandmother's funeral. It's been a sad and long couple of days, but it was good to see my family. I just wish it had been under better circumstances. She is at peace, at least, and she lived a long life. She looked beautiful in the pink dress she had chosen to be buried in, and I have a carnation from the spray that matched that I'm going to press in remembrance. I'm still not sure it's fully hit me that she's gone. I'm sure it will, though.
I still need to take the trash out, which I'll do right before I go. Of course I'll get the gas on the way. Everything else is ready. In the meantime I'm dressed, having a banana for a snack, and drinking a big glass of ice water. I tried to fix the pump in the aquarium (the power glitched off during a thunderstorm the other day, and while it's not running dry (which would damage it), it isn't running the water through, either.) I tried priming it to no avail, so I unplugged it for now. They're goldfish, so they'll probably be alright. I won't be gone long, after all.
I'm taking some library books on interviewing with me. I hadn't mentioned it yet, but I do actually have an interview for a job on Friday afternoon. Apparently revamping the résumé worked, I got a screening phone call, and I was invited for the interview. So keep your fingers crossed for me. I'm off Friday as part of my bereavement leave, and it happened to work out that they were interviewing then, so I'm taking that as a sign of good things to come. :) It will be a major switch of gears from funeral to interview, but I need to do well. I also need to find something that shows some personality without being distracting for the interview. I'm thinking the floral skirt YKWIA and A gave me with a camisole and the eyelet lace jacket. It's not a suit, so that may be a mistake, but I don't actually have a suit, and I think they're not as preferred anymore. And there are no sequins or bee-baws on it, it's simple yet tasteful. What do you think? I was in a floral dress when I interviewed for my present job 17 years ago, so maybe florals are lucky for me. :)
I am in a great deal of pain. My ankle and foot were hurting so much earlier it was difficult to get home, much less rest. I'm tempted to go back into that damn boot again, if it would give some relief, however temporary. On top of everything, my left hand is nearly completely numb, meaning my neck is acting up again, this time on that side. Hopefully some ibuprofen will help with the pain and get the swelling down so the nerves aren't pinched.
There are certain aspects of growing older that are not what they are cracked up to be. Of course, as a customer once put it, every day you wake up on this side of the grass is a good one.
Speaking of which, tomorrow is the day I go to the funeral home and talk to them about advance planning my cremation and funeral. I talked with the lady earlier this evening to confirm.
My, it's been a long week. Even today was long. I got up early to move things around so the workmen could get to my windows, because I have two panes (two different windows, one in the bedroom and one in the living room) that have cracked. One at least was due to something hitting it when they did yard work. I'm not sure what caused the other. It just appeared one day. Anyway, the bedroom is the worst, but had just a couple of plant stands in the way to put to the side. In the living room, there is a table with plants on the top and books on a lower shelf stacked about three feet high. I didn't want them to have to move that, especially as my printer stand, which is designed to attach to the computer desk by a small triangle joint, is actually in line with the table and desk and held up by them bolstering it on each side. If you don't know that, and move the table, then my printer does a nose dive. So it was better to just get up early and move some things around. It's really time to take the recliner out entirely; it's dead, shedding bolts here and there. That's part of the plan tomorrow.
Anyway, I needn't have bothered, really, because a water emergency in another building meant they weren't able to get to the windows, but they left a nice note that was very apologetic and promised to fix them Monday. In the meantime, there are books on the sofa, and thinks are all askew, but I can deal with it till then.
There was also an eviction notice on my door when I came home. I paid my rent yesterday, but they had filed on Tuesday and it was just being served. I have to call them Monday to see if I need to go to court to present my receipt or not. I haven't come this close to being evicted in some years (although there's usually a rough spot near November if there is a danger). I can't believed I did something as utterly stupid as forgetting to decline my book club titles. Oh, wait, yes I can. For the record, the titles are Neal Stephenson's Reamde and Harry Connolly's The Wooden Man. Ironically enough, it was the first set of features selections where I was not actually interested in either book. But since each book has now cost me upwards of $200 or more, I'm sure as hell going to read them. At least the Connolly book is a three-in-one. And I'm trying to contact them, because that is not counting towards my total of books bought. They're saying I've just bought one at regular prices, when it's three. I just need one more and then it's goodbye SFBC, let me tell you, unless you magically get to stop having to decline selections once you fulfill your commitment. I know someone who doesn't have to, but they've been a member for years.
I was going to watch Supernatural (both the regular one at 9 pm and maybe one off of a disc of earliest episodes) tonight, but I was just so tired and hurting that I DVR'ed it instead. I probably should have finished the game notes tonight as well--although there is a good chance we won't play Sunday, since Brenda's been sick, but I need to be ready just in case. If we don't play, I'll still go over, clean, and we'll do something fun.
Okay, that's enough. I think the ibuprofen has kicked-in, pain-wise. I have to get up early enough to take the 9:45 bus into town, and I haven't actually filled out the planning book they sent me, although I'm not entirely sure I was expected to. Good night.
and I'm sorry for that. It has been a combination of having a lot to do in the early part of the month and falling asleep because I just feel so tired all the time (I suspect that has something to do with my blood sugar, at least often, as I come home, I eat (and yes, take my insulin), but then fall asleep). Seeing as this month is the tenth anniversary of this blog, I'm going to do what I can to change how things have been going and actually blog before I get overwhelmed by a case of the tireds, if at all possible.
Today, though, I am totally free. Because I knew I wouldn't be going anywhere, I did wait to do the game notes till today. And I plan to pick up some bread from the grocery and a book that's come in to the library (and take two back that are due this weekend). I also need to finish a Kindle library book, which is due today, so I'd like to do some reading. And maybe watch a movie and do the dishes. Not much of a day, but it's nice to just have some 'me' time, I think.
Next Saturday I am going to talk to a representative of Milward Funeral Directors. She sent me some information I had requested on doing advanced planning. I want to assure that I am cremated and not embalmed, and if possible, take out a policy to pay the costs rather than having my family use my life insurance, which is, after all, tied to my employment. I've talked to my mother about my wishes. She had mentioned a plot near my grandparents that is available, and I reminded her I planned on being cremated. She pointed out the urn could be buried there, which is fine with me if that would make her feel better, as long as I am not embalmed and placed in the ground as is. [I asked her why she would want to bury the urn, and she brought up the Dust Buster possibilities if it were knocked over. See, I do get my sense of humour honestly.] But really, I think she'd rather have a grave to visit, and that's fine. I just really am grossed out by the idea of embalming. Personally I'd rather just be scattered somewhere nice, but what happens after my body is burnt is really not my concern. I just want it to break down quickly, to allow for release of the spirit and potentially quicker reincarnation. And I also want to make sure my wishes regarding religious aspects of a funeral are followed--I don't want some Christian preacher I've never met come up for my family and talk about what a good person I was. I'm not Christian, for one, I'm Pagan. When my great-grandmother died, a man preached her funeral who really didn't know her. He talked about how much she loved the hills of Owen county, and how she was infirm but still sharp. She had had Alzheimer's for fifteen years. I don't know if my grandmother and great-aunt were ultimately to blame for that, if they didn't want the community to know that Ma was lost when it came to her mind, but it offended me, greatly. Anyway, I just want to make my wishes known, and see what my options are for paying it off.
Joyce Johnson remembers the drums beating slowly as she walked with her girls from the Old Post Chapel, behind the horse-drawn caisson carrying the flag-draped casket of her husband.
She remembers struggling to maintain her composure as she stared at his freshly dug grave, trying not to dwell on the terrible sight in the distance — the gaping hole in the Pentagon where he had so proudly worked.
The three-volley salute. Taps. The chaplain handing her a perfectly folded flag. The blur of tributes.
And then a lady stepped forward, a stranger, dressed not in uniform but in a simple dark suit. She whispered a few words and pressed two cards into Johnson's hands.
"If there is anything you need ..."
What a wonderful thing to do for the grieving, and for those who otherwise would otherwise be buried alone, without anyone to attend their last rite of service.
Before going out to view the procession, during the actual service, I played Mozart's 'Requiem' at work (oddly enough, I happen to keep the CD there). Here is the Introitus and Kyrie:
Mozart's music is both haunting and uplifting, and reminds us that there is joy in death as well as sorrow.
As people began gathering along Main Street to wait for the funeral procession of Lexington police Officer Bryan J. Durman to pass, I asked why they were there.
The answer was always the same: "I just wanted to pay my respects."
That's why Brad Morris was there, too, along with his wife, Jessica, and their daughters, Grace, 3, and Lucy, 1. But their reason for being there was more personal than most.
Morris had met Durman, 27, the morning of the night he was killed by a hit-and-run driver while investigating a noise complaint on North Limestone.
"We met at the barbershop," Morris said. "I got a haircut in the chair beside him, and 10 hours later he was dead."
A Lexington firefighter for 11 years, Morris knows all too well the ever-present dangers faced by uniformed public safety workers.
Morris was driving an ambulance on Feb. 13, 2004, when he and other firefighters responded to a domestic violence call on Adams Lane in rural southeast Fayette County. A deranged gunman opened fire on them. When the shooting stopped, firefighter Brenda Cowan was dead. Morris took cover behind the ambulance until police officers could escort him to safety.
Officer Durman's procession covered a path 25 miles long, bringing the cortege around Man O' War, down Richmond Road/Main Street past the main police station and the memorials for fallen police and firefighters, and then back down Harrodsburg Road to be buried. All in all, that meant going through over 100 intersections and covering over a quarter of the city along main roads. About 2,000 attended the funeral; 600-1000 vehicles from all over Kentucky and beyond crept along the road, the entire passage taking about forty minutes from beginning to end for an observer at the side. It began shortly before 2 pm and lasted until until 3:30.
I was there. I originally intended to watch from the front lawn of the hospital, but decided I should take an earlier bus to my next job (down Richmond Road) so as not to be caught in the traffic. I had just arrived at the parking lot of the gas station when I heard the first siren. A man near me had brought a large flag to hold during the procession. We lined up along the sidewalk someberly at attention as the first vehicles began.
There were many of them--hundreds, from all over, from cities and counties I recognised and those I did not. But I teared up when the Lexington contingent came by, and by the time the hearse arrived I was crying openly. One of the state trooper cars drove by and I heard my name. One of the officers I see regularly at the store had called to me. I saw the widow as they went by (her son was apparently sick and could not attend the funeral). After the family had passed, I went back up the hill because it was almost time for work. The bus I had been in was still stuck on the other side of Man O'War. I just barely made it. But I'm glad I was able to pay my respects. Later, an officer and his girlfriend or wife, who was still dressed for the funeral, came in. I said I knew it had been a very long day and was very gentle with them. It was so important to honour this young man, but I'm sure it took a toll on those who did.
He was also an Air Force Veteran and was buried with military honours. But the last call from the police radio that they play in one of the videos below choked me up even more than 'Taps' or a gun salute.
The only mar to the thing was that one of the cars across the road which was stopped in traffic was playing its bass a little too loudly. I think they really should have either turned the music down or off out of respect, especially as Officer Durman was killed during a routine noise complaint.
Officer Bryan Durman, please rest in peace. And to other officers, like Grace, who called to me, or to my neighbour, let me just say that we appreciate what you do and your willingness to sacrifice so much in order to serve and protect. And you are very much in my thoughts tonight.
Services will be at noon Tuesday, also at Southland Christian Church, in Building E. Graveside services will follow at Bluegrass Memorial Gardens.
After the service, the procession will leave the church, proceed north on Harrodsburg Road, turn onto Man o' War Boulevard, then go to Richmond Road and proceed into downtown Lexington.
The procession will travel down Richmond Road/Main Street before turning onto Broadway to travel back to the cemetery in Jessamine County.
Lexington police spokeswoman Sherelle Roberts says the department has been contacted by dozens of agencies — including from Ohio and Tennessee — that want to pay their respects. Roberts said that Louisville police would be sending its mounted unit and that there will be 14 different honor guards. She said neighboring agencies, including Georgetown, Harrodsburg and Clark County, would be assisting with traffic control.
If people want to watch the procession, Roberts said the department is asking that they park at the old Lexington Mall and stand along Richmond Road/Main Street to reduce congestion.
For those of you unfamiliar with Lexington, Southland Christian Church is way out beyond Man O' War, which is the outermost of two belts around the city. The procession will proceed around a full quarter of the city. Richmond Road is the same thing as Main Street (Lexington roads change names at major intersections, and all of the main roads going out of town are named for the towns they go towards). I heard from someone that when a police officer dies, his body is escorted by his assigned station, so I'm assuming the one on Main Street is what he worked out of.
The procession will be going by the hospital I work at sometime tomorrow afternoon. I want to pay my respects by going out to the sidewalk. I'll ask the security guard if he can tell us when the procession is approaching.
Thanks to Graham Murkett (somegreybloke on YouTube) for the link via Facebook.
On another note, please consider signing a petition to make it a crime to protest at military funerals (as the Westboro Baptist Church has been doing for years, blaming homosexuals for deaths in Iraq and Afghanistan). I was signer #886. Granted, they're a little out there (if the Supreme Court rules in a current case for the Church, the folks who have organised the petition want to try to amend the Constitution, which frankly isn't going to happen in this case), but...their hearts are in the right place. It's horrible to think that in your greatest time of grief some yokel gay-hater is going to show up at the funeral with pickets, shouting obscenities. It's obscene itself, and Congress should do something about it.
Okay, this is what I get for checking my Facebook page. I'm going to bed now, really. Good night (again).
The Supreme Court agreed Monday to delve into the sensitive question of whether the First Amendment protects anti-gay protesters carrying placards outside military funerals, bearing “America is Doomed,” “Thank God for 9/11″ and other volatile slogans, like “Thank God for dead soldiers.”
The messages and picketing are part of a Kansas church’s belief that the United States’ tolerance for homosexuality is cause for soldiers’ deaths in Iraq and Afghanistan.
The case the justices decided to review Monday tests the boundaries of free speech versus freedom of religion — doctrines both embodied in the First Amendment.
This practice is despicable, particularly because the soldiers involved aren't even remotely related to any issue of homosexuality. The protesters are causing undue stress and emotional harm to the families of men and women who died in service to our country. In my opinion, this crosses a line that goes beyond freedom of speech or religion, for that matter, but is simply impinging upon the rights of families to bury their loved ones in peace.
One court agreed with me, and awarded a $5 million judgment against Rev. Phelps' Kansas church in favour of the father of a slain soldier, but it was overturned on appeal. Now the case goes before the Supreme Court. I hope it reverses the appellate court decision--giving others the ability to also sue the church and win. I don't believe that hate speech is protected by our First Amendment rights, but even if it were, there's something to be said for fighting it with bankruptcy. Unfortunately, you can never stamp out hate speech, for it is virulent and spreads like a plague through people who are 1) lacking in knowledge and 2) lacking in human sympathy for others. Instead they try to foist their radical beliefs onto others in new and innovative ways, such as protesting at military funerals. Personally, I think they should not only be barred from doing so, but prosecuted criminally if they continue, rather than making it a civil case.
Please, Justices, give these families peace to bury their dead. Condemn the Westboro Baptist Church of Topeka's practice of crashing funerals and make sure no other family has to deal with such insensitivity during their time of pain.
One is is Kansas' 'Dust in the Wind', a classic (as opposed to classical, YKWIA):
Another is a more recent song, Rob Thomas' 'Now Comes the Night' (which is unfortunately cut off in this video a bit):
And just for the record, I want to be cremated and NOT EMBALMED UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. Embalming gives me the willies and I think it's unnecessary, especially if you're planning to have your body reduced to cremains and ash anyway. I've told my family this, I've told my friends, and if it's in my power I'll haunt whomever buries me. I'm signed up as an organ donor; take what parts you need and then destroy my body and release my spirit's ties to matter so I can reincarnate in peace.
Got problems with gays and want to be outspoken? Sure, that's your right under our Constitution. But picketing a dead soldier's funeral (especially a non-gay dead soldier's funeral) just because you're sure America needs to hear that its troops are falling in war because God is punishing it for the sins of homosexuals and the support of the homosexual agenda? That's ludicrous, wrong, illogical, tacky, disrespectful, unpatriotic, and it should be illegal in all jurisdictions. I don't think funerals are truly public in the sense of letting anyone with a placard and a lungful of hate speech in. Funerals are for the respect for the dead. Military funerals are for the respect of those who have fallen protecting our country--straight or gay. So, I was happy to see:
It's been my experience that those who hate gays the most tend to be those who secretly realise that they have homosexual urges. I'm not saying Fred Phelps is one of these people, of course. But I do wonder why such vehemence against gays? Why is he threatened by their existence? What have they really done for him? It's such a strange whacko turn for someone who started out of all things as a civil rights attorney for blacks. Now he hates gays, pickets military funerals, and runs websites saying God hates (insert country here--there's already Ireland, Sweden, and Canada). And with his church, most of whom are related to him by blood or marriage, he has others to carry on the hate speech when he dies. I guess he'll find out then if he really is part of the elect or not. I'm not Christian, of course, but I have actually read the Bible from cover to cover--something many Christians fail to do, including those who like to quote it--and it seems to me Jesus was primarily about loving others. It's not a particularly gay-friendly text, true, but at the same time, you have to wonder where someone full of that much hate really belongs in God's design, don't you?
