A Twofold Post

Life's amazingly busy and that's okay. I have two amazing granddaughters taking up a chunk of time these days. They are both adorable and have stolen my heart. The oldest is almost 14 months now. Baby sister is 3 weeks old. Big sissy now runs to me when I hold my arms out to her. That is the greatest, most wonderful thing ever.

So anyhow, a while back I promised two stories. One - the harassment of stepmum and two - the tale of my good friend's father's death. I'll tell you about step mum first. I think that would be saving the best for last.

Ten years ago as my MIL was in a nursing home dying from Huntington's Disease my FIL stood outside her door showing off his little blue pills. The little white pill was for his heart. The little blue one was ... well you know... Freakin' Viagra.

Now tell me why a man who has a dying wife would 1 - possess viagra and 2 - brag about it to his own children. Obviously he was having a fling on the side. He thought it was okay since his wife was unable to meet his needs.

Back then FIL drove us up a wall. He was always at our house. He'd show up in the morning wanting coffee. He'd show up wanting to know if there was money available to him. He couldn't write a check. When MIL became unable to handle the finances, that job fell to Adam. He's still Adam. I'm used to calling him that.

Anyhow, we were infuriated that FIL was having a fling. Bad enough at his age and all but as his wife was dying? How LOW can a man go? And further, he was annoying the heck out of us by being at our house more than we wished to see him. So the fling was with step mum who was a nurses aid at the nursing home where MIL was dying. What kind of woman takes care of another dying woman and is all the while screwing the dying woman's hubby?

On the day of MIL's funeral, FIL had to get back to town quickly. He and step mum were signing papers for the home they were about to purchase together. Are you kidding me? It was a time when we were about as disgusted with the two of them as we've ever been with anyone.

BUT...........

The day came when we realized in spite of it all they were married AND she had rescued us from having him camped out on our front porch daily.

So then we now fast forward 10 years. FIL died the day our second grandbaby was born. We hadn't been close to stepmum and FIL even though they reside(d) just two blocks from our home. Adam debated with himself the next morning after his father had died....

Call step mum?

Don't call?

Offer to help with the planning?

Don't offer?

Finally he decided to call and offer. He had - after all - been the one who planned his mom's funeral and preplanned his dad's funeral at the same time. He didn't even know if step mum knew that things had already been taken care of. It would be like FIL to never mention such things.

When she heard his voice she immediately started screaming "if you are calling to harass me too, just DON'T." Turns out there was already a family dispute over what to do with FIL's ashes. Two siblings want them buried next to MIL. Stepmum wants to keep them for herself. She says "He's with her in heaven.... she has him.. I want his ashes."

Once she realized Adam didn't much care what happened to the ashes she calmed down and gladly accepted help with the planning.

So there... that's how step mum got harassed.

Now for story number two.....

A few years back my friend Mary lost her father. She comes from a family of five kids. She grew up poor. Mom and dad never had much and honestly most of the family to this day doesn't have much but you will never ever meet a more fun-loving, generous, caring, purebred Italian family.

Weeks before, in anticipation of Dad's death, they had taken brother Michael (in his forties) shopping for a suit for Dad's funeral that loomed in the near future. On the day of the - depending on what part of the world you live in - visitation, viewing, calling hours Michael called Mary:

"I guess I'm NOT GOING TO DAD'S FUNERAL!!!"

"What in the world are you talking about?"

"I have NOTHING to wear!!"

"What are you talking about? You're wearing the suit we bought you."

"I can't!"

"What do you mean 'you can't'?"

"I can't!!!!"

"Why not?"

"Because DAD IS WEARING IT!!"

Turns out, they had sent a grandson to pull Dad's suit out of the closet and deliver it to the funeral parlor. Michael lived at home with mom and dad. And yup, you guessed it... grandsonny grabbed the WRONG suit. That suit was too big for Gramps but apparently the funeral home didn't bother to care or ask about that fact. They just did their thing.... slit it up the back and put it on the dead man leaving Michael finding his dad's suit in the other closet. That suit was naturally too small for Michael.

Did you know they cut clothes up the back to put them on a dead person? I didn't know that till then but it makes perfect sense. Besides, who would have wanted to wear it after it had been on a dead guy? So even if Michael's brand new suit hadn't been destroyed by the funeral home with scissors, he wasn't about to want to wear it after having been on his dead father's body.

So there you have it.....

Oh, and btw, Michael wore the only other suit he owned..... it looked kind of like this:
I'm not kidding. I swear. That's what he wore. It was when I asked Mary "What the heck is Michael wearing?" that she laughed and told me the story.

Is it as funny to you as it was to us? I guess maybe you had to be there.