Today Butch and I took my niece Karla, Grand-nephew Devon,and sister Theresa to Lake City for Scott's funeral. I have attended far too many funerals in my life but I have obtained a fair amount of maturity and feel that I handle it pretty well. For the most part, I am not a cryer. But my tiny little sister Myrla, who is about a 100 pounds and 4' 10" is sitting in the front row looking so vulnerable and lost. For the past 33 years, she has had Scott in her life every day. They laughed and talked each and every day. They depended on each other but did so with no regrets and a huge amount of love. They were good together. I was sitting beside her and the music started. "Will you remember me" and she broke into tears. I put my arm around her and cried with her. And I am beginning to tear up again telling you about it. It was hard.
I did see many of my cousins and Karla's sister Angie and her husband Jeff and we had not seen many of these people for a very long time. That was good.
And on a much lighter note, I have a bit of a story. When I dressed this morning I was looking for some black shoes. I would have worn flip flops but it was chilly so I went to the motorhome and retrieved a pair of black mesh shoes I had not worn for perhaps 20 years. I liked them because they expand with my feet. So we were at the church for lunch and I looked down to see what looked like mud underneath my chair. I discovered that my shoes were disintegrating before my eyes! The soles made of rubber/plastic were crumbling and leaving black crumbles everywhere! I did not wear socks and did not have a spare pair! Fortunately, Jason was there and had a spare pair of his in his car. Butch made me take off my crumbly ones and he threw them in the trash. When I got into the car I noticed black crumbles. And then when we got home there were black crumbles on my kitchen floor. If only I had noticed! It did give my cousins a hearty chuckle!