EDITING TO ADD: I am cry-laughing. I shared with Mini that I spelled Alanis' name wrong in my last post. Then I explained why she was even mentioned. Mini didn't know at first who Alanis was. I began
destroying singing: IT'S LIKE RAINNNN ON MY WEDDING DAY.
Mini was like: NOTHING IN THAT SONG EXCEPT THE NO SMOKING SIGN PART IS ACTUALLY IRONIC. A FREE TICKET WHEN YOU'VE ALREADY PAID SUCKS, BUT IT ISN'T IRONIC.
This is what it's like to have raised children who are bright. I promptly pointed at her and sang (again with the singing - not my strong suit) the name of one of the colleges that she was accepted to. Her college application process and such will follow the post about her issues, because I want you to get the full story.
I told my sees-TAS that I'd take the pullout in the extra room of the hotel. They could each have a bed in the bedroom. They left the room for a minute in search of a bar. I was already in my jammies. They offered to bring me a drink, but I took a pass. When I crawled into the pullout, I called Mini. She was babysitting in my place in the morning. Fortunately it was exam week, and she has high enough grades that exams were optional - HOORARY, automatic babysitting sub. I filled her in on how things were going, reminded her that she had to WAKE up in the morning *if you aren't sensing foreshadowing here, think twice.* When I told her how her aunts are worried that Nana is getting forgetful, she vowed to never fuss over whether or not I'm acting or getting old.
Mini: DON'T WORRY, I WON'T TREAT YOU LIKE THAT WHEN YOU'RE OLD. SHIT, WE'RE GOING CLUBBING WHEN YOU'RE OLD.
Needless to say, I almost died by chortle.
Emily and Mamie Baldwin (elderly sisters from the TV show the Waltons who concocted bootleg and called it 'the Recipe') came back to the room, bummed because the bar was closed. Marie was upset, she'd meant to pack a bottle of wine. They're a barrel of laughs sober, I can only imagine the fun we'd have had if we'd all gotten tipsy.
Once they shuffled past into the bedroom, I continued my chat with Mini. I told her about how I'd said something funny and both my travel buddies died laughing because they are so easily entertained.
Mini: I TOTALLY GET THAT. WHEN I SAY SOMETHING FUNNY AOURND THEM, IT'S LIKE I'M JIMMY KIMMEL.
*****In the morning, Ann was like DO YOU HAVE A SOUND MACHINE OR SOMETHING OUT HERE?
She was blown away. She said she'd gotten up during the night and couldn't figure out why she heard water running. I told her Coach and I keep one plugged in every night. More astonishment.
Well, it helps me drown out my kids pounding around late or waking up early to get to the golf course. My sleep habits were so curious to her. AND you bring it with you places? Will the amusement never end?
Hey, do you know how many college visits or dancing competitions or PT courses I've attended and suffered from loud hotel neighbors? Don't knock it till you try it.
Before the funeral, my elderly-wanna-be buddies were wondering about the fact that the church where the funeral was being held was a Lutheran Church instead of a Catholic Church. We know Joe was raised Catholic, since we grew up with him. As one would imagine, there was some twittering back and forth about this. I wonder why? I wonder when?
Me (internally): I WONDER WHY I DON'T CARE?
Just before we left the luncheon, Ann told Mike to tell the other brother, who stayed back in Colorado to care for Johnny (my best bud who suffered a TBI when we were kids), that we said hello. Mike said he would, but Pete doesn't talk to him.
I told Cagney and Lacey that Joe had told me that at Warren's (their dad who died just shy of his 91st bday) funeral last year, not all of the brothers were talking. My how-are-we-related siblings were very upset by this.
I realized later that I could've compared it to when Reg was born and Ann didn't speak to me for a solid year. She had a 9 year old named Reg who had a different last name. She was BEYOND mad that I used the same name. Nevermind that she also used our maiden name for her firstborn and then told me I couldn't use it as a name for one of my kids. Nevermind further that Reg had been one of my favorite names for decades and THIS WAS MY FOURTH SON. Someday over a glass of wine, I will
share bore any of you who are interested the challenges I faced getting on the same page as Coach on baby names. But it just so happened that Reg was one of his favorite TOO.
Yo, control freak of the universe - you can't claim all the names.
She found it unfathomable that a few of the brothers weren't speaking. It is sad, especially now that Joe is dead. But hey there, Ann, can I get you a pot and a kettle?
Marie was concerned that during our conversation at the luncheon Mike referred to his father as Warren. She 'reported' this back to our mother (insert image of me in the passenger seat listening to the Bluetooth call and EYE-ROLLING galore here . . . who care-za?). I let her know that Joe used to call their dad Warren when he was telling me a story about him too. Maybe that was just something they did when Warren got older. Who knows? Why are we reading into everything? There's a song Drizella and Anastasia need to listen to from the 80's, it's called RELAX.
Ann was perplexed at how Mike could have married his wife, who he met in Japan. "BUT THEY DIDN'T EVEN SPEAK THE SAME LANGUAGE."
Me: APPARENTLY, THEY SPOKE THE LANGUAGE OF LOVE.
After the funeral, Ann said to us: I DIDN'T KNOW JOE WAS SO GOOD.
The 3 eulogies were filled with impressive stories of all that he did.
I didn't know all that he was involved in either, but I wasn't surprised. I knew he was an amazing human. To know him was to know that he was great and to sense that he was going the extra mile in everything that he did. He was brutally honest. Told people stuff even if it ticked them off. Was a chief in the Air Force. He'd retired recently after 37 years. A fellow Air Force man explained that some people thought Joe was crazy, but he considered him one step shy of crazy: he was passionate. The pastor of the Lutheran (oh, ahh - Luth-er-an) church talked about how Joe and his wife had been so helpful whenever a need had arisen for a small group of refugees in the area. Eventually, Joe and his wife set up a $10,000 fund so that the pastor wouldn't feel like she had to keep asking for help. It was available to her as needed.
On the long-ass, snowy drive home, where I observed Marie sit closer to the steering wheel than I thought was humanly possible, I read my book. How great that there was no music to distract me? It got dark fast and I turned on the light on my phone. I was careful to keep my light tucked into my book so that it wouldn't shine in Marie's face or distract her in any way.
|This is me, under my coat, backwards. |
Demonstrating the way I sat in the car in
order to read. I apologize for not posing
for this photo in my car. I invite
you to use your imagination.
I really wanted to read my book because:
A. I rarely have time to just sit and read.
B. This book is SO long that I wanted to read whenever possible.
I lived up to my 9 year old station in life (in their eyes) and I flipped my coat around and put my hood over my face and turned on my light. CAN YOU SEE THE LIGHT NOW? IS THIS OK?
My coat-tent was approved and I almost suffocated during that close to 2 hour stretch, but I got a ton of reading done.
In the age of genetic testing for this and that, I should probably test to see if we are indeed related. It occurs to me that we all started out so similar. We wore footie pajamas, watched the same Donny and Marie Osmond Variety Shows, ate the same non-adventurous diet, enjoyed coloring books, Irish danced, stayed out of trouble at school. Do you have siblings or kids? Do you find that you are SO different from your sibs? If so, what do you attribute it to? Do you think personality traits like outgoing or shy are learned or genetic? I'm curious. Don't leave me wondering.
Next time: back to my promised list of Mini's issues. You'll laugh. You'll cry. You'll wonder why.