...the fun-flask

...I grew up in a funeral home. I know I've discussed this issue before, but it begs mentioning again. I was a second generation of kids living in a funeral home. I never found it weird. I never found it creepy, my dad was the original 'Work from Home' guy. There is a noise level and a sense of somber at times learned in living in a funeral home. You learn at a young age how to answer a business phone, arrange flower baskets, and clean ashtrays. These were all valuable lessons a nine year old could take on with her in life. I'm grateful for many fond memories of living in a small town funeral home as a kid. It also needs to be mentioned, that while I speak a lot of my liquor cabinet, I do not have an issue with drinking. I'm a responsible adult. However, there are those "desperate times, call for desperate measure" moments...I am also someone who knows everything is best in moderation.

Why the strange, illusive confession statement above? It has everything to do with my flowing of emotions in the last couple of days. Tears. That's it. Just tears. Not really able to put words to why they have been creeping in. I'm a realist, I know that life can't be undone. I know that this last year, while at times difficult, has taught me more than could ever be put into words. The enormity of my life, and all that has happened, good and bad, has set in. I was discussing today with a wise friend, I didn't know what the 'year mark' would feel like. I could sit and dwell on all the things I've not accomplished. The poor mothering that has happened more than a time or two. The fact that it all is still fairly terrifying, but I haven't the option to run. At times, decompressing, is an understatement...Well, it brings me to a year ago...

The day after Jason passed away, I really didn't want to do anything but lie in bed, pull the covers over my head and wallow. The loud kind of wallow. The kind you see women in the streets doing in foreign countries on the news. That was my idea of decompressing, and it didn't happen. Being raised in a funeral home, I should have known better. I had to slap on some clothes, and go plan a funeral...so we'll put a pin in the wallow until later? Not exactly. There was life to handle. Calls from friends and family. Doors to answer with baked goods, dinner, cards, and flowers. There were people to call back and voice mails to listen to. Oh, there were also four confused kids wandering around here, and no one really knew what to say to them...including me. If there were ever a time to RUN, that would have been it, I even think about that to this day...it, at the time, was almost TOO MUCH...

The thought of having to see people upset, hold my own emotions together, and thank them in the manner that I thought they deserved...now we've hit the too much status. I realize that I put these pressures on myself, but that's who I am, sadly. For about 12 hours I thought about skipping town. I just didn't think I could pull the visitation off...the control freak possibly losing control? Not good. It was then that I turned to my sainted friend April, and uttered the words that have made me laugh/smile in the last few weeks thinking about it. I said, "April...we are going to need a 'fun-flask'..." To which her three words back to me were a resounding, "...I'M ON IT!"

Now, my plan was not to get hammered at my late husbands visitation. It was, for me, like taking an umbrella to fight off the rain. If at some point, I thought I needed it, then I had it in my arsenal. On the way to the visitation, April was handing me lipstick to apply while driving. Reassuring me, that if there were ever a time I needed anything, just to nod at her and she'd be on it. My kids would end up playing/watching movies, gorging themselves with Halloween candy and soda a designated room at the funeral home, thankfully one less thing to worry about. The funeral director, and dear friend, wasn't lying when he said he predicted it to be a large turn out...while that was unbelievable, it was also very nice. I didn't really have time to give April the 'nod', however she would come by and check on me. "...oh, I'm fine", I'd say to her. After about 3 hours in, she came up and said, "...here, you need to drink this...(water, with a splash of something)". Clearly, she was nodding for me, and I'm grateful to her for it.

I feel like life doesn't give you a second chance...something, that while it is gut wrenching to learn, man, if you can understand it...the world is an entirely different place. Life is always going to get harder. So, you cry about it, cuss about it, drink about it, and embrace it. That's where I'm heading. That's what I'm wanting to teach my kids in this next year. Life is what YOU make of it. If you love someone, you let them know. If you are hurt by someone, you kindly confront them. If you have dreams, you follow them. If you take the easy way, those dreams might be a while out of your reach. The time you have here on earth is fleeting, make sure you know what you stand for, and you are able to SHOW, not tell, others by your example. Make every moment (even the ones where you are about to lose your shit) count...they are the ones you'll remember anyway...and for heaven's sake, don't forget your fun-flask, I mean umbrella...