Today, I’ve been married for 16 years. It’s worth a post all on it’s own. Essentially it would go something like this… 16 years and it just gets better… or I can’t believe he’s still putting up with my sorry self after 16 years…either way. Still love him. Still love remembering a wedding on the beach and a Jamaican minister who yelled “Run for the roses Mon!” as soon as he finished the ceremony.
Today was also Ray’s grandfather’s funeral. All day I thought of how funny he would think everything was. He used to joke that he didn’t need an ambulance, just roll him over to the funeral home in a wheel barrel. He didn’t want flowers, he wanted a bouquet of Johnson Grass. He got a little of both. One son worked some Johnson grass in and the ladies at the local flower shop put it in the spray that laid on the coffin. He would have had a good chuckle.
On the way to the grave site I told Ray that my anniversary gift to him would be the fact that I wouldn’t take notes and
gossip blog about the funeral. My sweet husband smiled and said go ahead. Grandpa would have told it.
I decided to share of few snippets of conversations I overheard at the funeral…
As the first minister started his introduction, from way in the back we heard. “I know. He started. I think I need a nerve pill!”
Again, a couple of rows behind me after the preacher said “and the letter to the church in Phillipi…” we heard in a not quiet at all whisper “He means the Phillipines!”
After hearing people talk through the entire funeral service my sister-in-law commented how odd it was that the children were far better behaved than the adults.
At one point I during visitation I took the girls outside to each some cookies and get their wiggles out. We overheard a conversation from the smoking section of the parking lot.
“You know those big orange and white cylinders? I thought they were just filled with plastic. Turns out, it’s concrete. I kept backing up and it knocked my bumper clean off!” I couldn’t stop laughing then I heard, “Charlie (Name Changed for Charlie’s sake) you shouldn’t be allowed behind the wheel of another vehicle? How many bumpers is this?”
“Did you see those Stripperella shoes? What was she thinking? Those heels are going to sink in this mud,” may or may not have come out of my own mouth.
Ray may or may not have said, “You’re wearing your cowboy boots. You don’t think people are talking about you?”
My cowboy boots happen to be red, Grandpa’s favorite color and mine. He would have gotten a kick out of them.
This isn’t exactly how we envisioned spending our anniversary, particularly considering in 16 years, we’ve probably been together in the same country for maybe 6 of them. One of those was in the airport, I was coming stateside, he was leaving. I am happy we were able to be together to celebrate the life of a special man. He had his faults (don’t we all) but he was kind and happy. There are few people on this earth that I would rather spend time with. I’ll miss you Paul Harold.