Saturday, January 24, 2009

with deepest sympathy

You know how you never react to tragedy the way you think that you will? Well, I'm the exception to that rule, because I am pretty predictable. The first thing I did after my mom died was invest in a new tube of waterproof mascara, because you know, that is how I roll. Then I wandered around Walmart and had an anxiety attack and frightened the old ladies in front of the popcorn aisle. So, to calm myself down I bought a hot chocolate maker, because I could hear Wendy's voice in my head telling me it was cozy. Yay for schizophrenic hallucinations, because she was right, it is very comforting.

Now that I am armed with my mascara and sugar fix, I need a plan to make it through the viewing and funeral. I HATE viewings. Alot. So very very much. So far my best idea has been to create an elaborate chart assigning points to every platitude people try to comfort you with on these occasions. For example, "She is in a better place" is worth two points. My siblings and I can discreetly keep score and whoever has endured the most comforting phrases, and thus collected the most points, at the end of the evening will win a special treat, perhaps an extra helping of funeral potatoes.

Yes, I know that this makes me sound callous and a bit jaded, but we all grieve in our own way and my way happens to involve distracting myself with ridiculous games, which I will totally win and rub all my siblings faces in it.

1 comment:

bonnie jack said...

You can always find my family at a funeral because we're the ones in the corner laughing ourselves to tears. It's our way of grieving--by remembering all the funniest things about a person. So I don't think you're callous. I'm sure your mom appreciates your ability to laugh. And cry.

So...did Jenny call you about us bringing you dinner sometime?