"Did you send your grandmother a sympathy card?"
"Mom, I don't..........no...............not yet."
"...she'd really appreciate that, Sonya."
"I called."
"Send it, please."
So Mols and I dropped by the drugstore after I watched her pay someone to spread wax over the lower half of her body. The tabs over the cards read things like "Loss of Father" "Loss of Spouse" "Unexpected Loss" "General Grief". I picked up the one under Unexpected and looked inside. In curlique cursive, it dripped some message that was so cheesy, every cheesy thing I come up with to emulate it is no where near cheesy enough. It made me think of overpowering rotten old lady perfume. I put it back in the rack and unconciously wiped my hands on my socks.
I shifted around on my heels to look at molly. "Finding anything?"
"Nope."
"I just think it's weird to send a 'Sorry your son is dead' card. All of these are so fake and over-done, they make me feel horrible and I'm not even the one mourning. A prayer-y one might be okay."
I found a small card with a pleasant flower and a verse on the front "Blessed are the mourners, for they shall be comforted." Leave it to the Jesus to be non-sappy and direct about death. Not a 'holy cow your life must be over and you'll barely survive' sentiment, but not a 'buck up, young camper' sentiment either. I assumed it would be blank inside. Nope, when I flipped it open, cheese practically exploded over the aisle. Stupid Hallmark.
Posted by Sonya at May 19, 2003 09:34 AMMy boss told us in a meeting this morning that she went to her fourth funeral this year over the weekend. Apparently her friends are dropping like flies.
"Is it job related?" somebody asked. "Like, job stress or something?"
"I don't think so," said my boss. "I think just none of us are meant to make it out of our fifties."
"That's terrible," somebody else replied.
Contemplative silence.
"It's nice to see everyone again though," I said. "You know? Like, everyone comes into town for the weekend. You all get to hang out in the hotel or wherever. Get drunk. Have revelatory conversations."
"Yeah," my boss said with a shrug. "I guess so."
"Well," I said. "If it's not, it should be. Aren't you a baby boomer? I saw The Big Chill. I know the score."
Everyone stared at me. Dan gave me a look like something was growing out of my forehead. Then my boss let out one explosive laugh, almost like a sneeze.
Everybody jumped.
Took a minute to compose themselves.
The meeting continued as if nothing had happened.
See? You get it. I think they're putting my uncle's urn in the ground over his fathers casket right now. I think that was a good use of space and I think maybe the rest of the fam should choose cremation as well and just everybody go in the same hole. It'll be just like the good ole days when we'd all go camping and have to cram in the tent, except without bodies.
and I stand by my plan to be packed into fireworks or eaten by woodland animals.
Posted by: sonya at May 19, 2003 03:26 PMpsshaw. I knew Jesus would sell out to those goddamn Hallmark pansies. And joke's on you, butterlips. The unexpected general grief row was a mere Charleston away. Hey. Know what? I'd like a butter flavored charleston chew now. They make those?
Posted by: smallpox at May 19, 2003 03:43 PM