I don't realize just how badly I thrive on schedule and structure until I don't have one. For example, today, my only committment is to be completely out of the house and dressed for a funeral by 12:30. Which means that last night, at midnight, when I finally finished gutting my closet and reorganizing it (complete with pictures on the outside of the tupperware so I know which purses are in which bin...my heart sings!), and I was still wide awake, I just pulled out my book and began reading. And connected a few characters in the book, which kept me up until 2am. Which is why I slept until 10:30 today. I seemed to have turned into my sister.
So, for the second year in a row, I have a funeral to go to a couple of days after Christmas. It's not anyone I knew well, but am going to support the family. You would think with as many black items of clothing (it's a slimming color for us big-boned girls) that I would be able to quickly and easily put together an outfit for a funeral. But not so much. I finally put one together and headed back down south, to Midlothian.
Here's why I love the funerals of older, country-er people. In the program, it showed that Boyd Ray (his actual name) "was preceeded in death by...brothers Charlie, Hinky, Blue, Joe, and Shorty, and sister, Flo." (His other brother, Otis, survived him) Even funnier, as Mammy noticed, the fancy type made his sister Flo's name look like it said "Ho." True story.
At the beginning of the funeral, I noticed a yellow-jacket flying around the chandelier. Since I wasn't too terribly close to the deceased, I watched the yellow-jacket fly around the chandelier for a few minutes. I listened to Amazing Grace, repeated the 139th Psalm with the pastor, and just after "fearfully and wonderfully made" I noticed the yellow-jacket was back. Flying around the chandelier. Here's what went through my head as I was repeating the rest of the Psalm.
Wait! He's coming closer to the funeral-goers. It's gonna be really funny when he lands on one of those people and they start screaming in the middle of the funeral. Just hope it's not that little girl. That'll freak her out. He's gonna make a lap around the room. Why is he getting closer to me? Oh man. He's gonna buzz right by my head. What do I do if he stings me? I will not scream. I will not make noise. I will not yell out in the middle of the 139th Psalm. I will simply try to suck it up or slink out the back. At least I'm sitting next to the back of the chapel and can sneak out if I have to. He just landed in my hair!!!! OUCH!
Now, that OUCH was not from the yellow-jacket stinging me, but instead from the man behind me accidentally smacking me upside the head as he tried to get the yellow-jacket out of my hair. Then he grabs it and throws it on the ground, where at this point I still don't know what happened to it, and leans forward and says "it was a yellow-jacket." What's a girl to do?! I just kept right on with the 139th Psalm and acted as if nothing had happened, while mentally writing this post and wondering when I'd get to tell my aunt that the most exciting thing about the funeral was the yellow-jacket landing on my head!
Further proof that God has a sense of humor.
P.S. When I accidentally set myself on fire Christmas Eve 2001, the man behind me had to put me out with a hymnal. So if you're planning on having a lovely fellowship with God, you may not want to sit behind me, because if you do you may have your work cut out for you. Just sayin'.
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