A Mommy Blog About Raising Men, Not Boys.

Thursday, September 14, 2006

The Final Stage.........Finding Humor

I'm not sure about the stages of grief. I know that there are seven of them but are they, and I could probably GOOGLE them and find it out but who fucking cares? I think that one sign that you have gotten a grip on your grief is humor. If you can laugh, you're probably okay. As long as it's not maniacal handwringing laughter.......that is....
When my Uncle George died my mother and I were faced with a situation that required either hilarious laughter, or hysterical sobbing. Uncle George was a vain man. He wore a toupee that he himself (a stylist) had fashioned from his own hair. It actually looked remarkably good and I promise you, you NEVER saw him without it. He had two pieces, one styled and ready to wear, and one that was washed and brushed but not styled - ostensibly to wear while the first one was in it's washing process(whatever THAT is).
My Grandmother Drake took the wrong piece to the funeral home. She took the flat dull but recently washed piece. Not the fluffy "this is how I wear my hair and this is how I want to be sealed up eternity" piece. When we looked into the casket.....we nearly choked. Oh christ it's the wrong piece. And people WERE ARRIVING.
As the people passed us by saying "oh he looks so good" we'd laugh and say "no he doesn't he looks like hell". George would have thought so, and if he'd gotten attend the funeral of someone with the wrong piece attached to their head for all eternity he'd have told the story till your ears bled. He would have laughed his ass off. So we laughed. And laughed. And if we talk about it now, we still laugh.
I wish I had a picture.
In thinking of Bobby and thinking of things that make me laugh, I was looking over the pictures of the memorial of his desk. And instead of sobbing I looked in shock and said OH HELL! And knew that Bobby would have laughed.
Because there, on his memorialized desk......
is a damn bottle of Equate brand cough and cold medicine. Cherry Flavor.
And in my mind, when I saw it, I heard Bobby say "What the hell, you people gotta immortalize me with some DAMN WALMART PRODUCTS ON MY DESK? GOOD GRIEF bad ENOUGH a brother gotta DIE IN A DAMN PLANE CRASH but now I am memorialized with my ghetto version on Nyquil on the desk? Can someone PLEASE TAKE THAT OFF MY DESK?" and I laughed until I cried.
I'm flying home Friday morning (note to the FAA and Bluegrass Airport - can we get the updated runway maps to AMERICAN AIRLINES PLEASE YOU ASSHOLES) to grab and hug and kiss all the people I love and miss. And to grieve with them about what we all lost and probably to be reminded that this is not a dress rehearsal. When I get home again to Florida, I expect to be someone else entirely.

I can't wait to see all of you. And Bobby I'm stealing your Equate cold medicine if someone from your family didn't take it.


Frank said...

I'll miss you, Baby.