when some one dies there ought to a person who is assigned to go to a bulk store and buy massive amounts of tissues and hand out a box to each person who enters the church. It should just be a mandatory funeral rule. I think of this as my friend Pam lost her Dad today. Uncle Ken was a sweet man. I didn't know him as well as Aunt Marjorie, Pam and their two siamese cats. I took piano lessons for, what seemed years, from Aunt Majorie and I loved going to her house.
Knowing that Uncle Ken died this morning made me think about what I needed the most at the funeral. Kinda of funny but what I needed the most was tissue. I had never gone to a funeral before. Had no idea what to do. Was (seriously) traumatized that I had to stand there shaking peoples hand while they gave me their deepest sympathies and all the while snot, in massive amounts, dripped down my face. My tissue was long gone. I had folded the tissues so many times it became a ball of wiry paper goo. I went to the bathroom and brought out a toliet paper roll. Yes, classless, but both sleves on my arms were covered in tears and snot, so, tell me, when exactly class was around.
So, if I could give someone, one thing on the day of the funeral, it would be many tissue boxes, in bulk.
~Since I have already experienced lots of trails. I have to say I am thankful for, yet, another little trail in my life. It's enough to make me realize how in an instant life can change. I killed my marble counter top last night with a kitchen fire. I was doing laundry and couldn't find a towel to check to see if the chicken was done so I grabbed a bath towel. A nice, big, blue, fluffy, very flammable towel. The chicken wasn't done so I put the towel on the counter top. Walked outta the kitchen, checked my e-mail and I heard all this popping. I yelled at Jax to stop popping on the tv screen as he was playing playstation and as I asked him to stop, it dawned on me that ....hmmmmmmm.... that popping sounds like the campfires we have whilst camping and sure enough. I come out of my room and Jax is crying and just pointing towards the kitchen and I just stood there and said, like a dumbass "Jax, there is a fire in the kitchen!".
And well, there was a fire in the kitchen. I got it out. The towel must have caught a spark in the oven and I had no idea the towel was on fire when I walked outta the room and thank goodness we didn't go outside to play straight away or we would be homeless.
Smoke was bellowing from under the sink and I was afraid that the fire had gotten in between the walls so I called 911 and every one and their brother came. I was very embarrassed and more worried about Jax. Poppie came and comforted Jax. Lathan's Dad is a firefighter so he was a great comfort. All my neighbors were out and giving me a lot of fun grief. I am so grateful for all the love that surrounds me in this neighborhood. I also learned that 4 of my neighbors have either lit their kitchen on fire or have been thru a fire. Didn't realize fires were so common.
My landlord came today. The damage is not that bad and we will try and find a new countertop as it's a long one and one piece.
So, PLEASE NEVER USE ANY TYPE OF TOWEL IN AN OVEN.
The fire man said it happens all the time and pot holders catch on fire just as bad.
I am so grateful that I could hear the popping , that I got us all out, even ALL of Jax's Pokemon cards, that I live in a small house, and that so many people love me here.
Jax was so sweet. I told him to go outside and I will be okay and take care of it and he was crying and said " Mom, I will stay in here and burn with you, I can't leave you." Of course, I cried. So sweet, that he would burn for me. I wonder if he would say the same when he is a teenager?
A Happy Meal and two kids, a dog and two birds later, I lay in bed very grateful for my life, for my kids, my neighbors, even for the fart smell that came from someone other then me. How lucky can one Mom be?
