Another Who Took the FUN out of FUNerals~~ TRUE STORIES FROM THE VAULT

ANOTHER TRUE STORY FROM THE VAULT

We had friends that were part of praise and worship team of the church we went to.

they would donate time for for services to folks to the community that needed them.

their job was to do the music.

before the days of CD'S and MP3S, it was only a good ole' fashion tape.

They dubbed some funeral sounding music over an existing tape they had.

When all was present for the attending of the funeral the music began to play.

It was an open casket viewing. 

they hit play for the music to play...

everybody heard..

"UP FROM THE GRAVE HE ROSE..."

Mrs. Pearl...Another True Story From The Vault

A while back my elderly neighbor fell down and broke her hip.  Since Her and I often conversationed over the wire chicken fence that divides our yards I thought it would be best to visit her to let her know that our family was thinking of her.  (in a dying with dignity home, and rehabilitation center)

I went during lunch time, and there were 3 beautiful other golden girls there.  One named Pearl caught my heart.  She was nearing a hundred.

She was having problems cutting her food and feeding herself.  I being there thought it was only right that I help get her fed.  I cut her food...and lifted the utensil to her mouth.

She was so happy that was someone was talking to her and assisting her.

this was the moment I thought..." I am going to volunteer here and help others out"

after a few moments Mrs. pearl had enough to eat.  I started to chatting to the other silver head ladies.  they were so delightful.

Lunch hour was done, and when I looked over at Mrs. Pearl she was unresponsive, the staff couldn't wake her up.  then they wheeled her away in her wheelchair.

I never went back to volunteer........

Narrating My Life

Wow, So much to say and not sure where to start.

After years of just "mind" narrating what is going on I think I will write down every aspect.

You see, when I do just about anything or everything, I feel as if there is a narrator in my head.

It is very bizarre.

If you have ever seen the movie with Will Ferrel "Stranger Than Fiction" you may know how I feel.

I just feel like every mundane thing I do it seems exciting, because I am narrating it.

for example:

Heidi walks into the Laundry room, feels frustration when she sees the pile of clean clothes that needs to be put away. Not only frustration with that but the fact there lies a pile of clothes that don't fit the kids anymore and she must go through them. A sigh is let out and the thought crosses her mind "I am the only one that does this" thus, this is where frustration stems from. Then of course the thought, the kids are growing up fast where has time went?

Remembering each piece of clothing when each child has worn it.

Not only has frustration set in but then guilt. Guilt can hit you upside the head like a caveman beating his wife. A wife that he convinces that she is his and she has no way out. Helpless. Damn that guilt

Frustration. Guilt.

There is a Window in the laundry room. The window is open to let in the fresh air. Heidi Looks toward the window and notices
The curtain sails back when the wind blows, the screen that is broken "breaths" In and out., Almost as if the house is alive reminding her she is not the owner.

Grabbing a wet shirt out of the wash to hang, the wind blows again, and the curtain blows up . Heidi takes a deep breath as the crisp spring air and the clean laundry marry together
to create a moment.


To create a fragrant natural high. A moment of warped happiness. In her mind any way. this was her one moment, her one moment where she would feel happiness with out strings attached. No guilt, no frustration. This was the few brief moments where spring and clean laundry could make one happy.



Her Mind quickly goes back to frustration as her hand reaches back into the wash to hang up more clothes.

Going back to frustration.


It was obvious that fabric softener was not put in the wash Because the shirt was stiff and wrinkled. She began to wave it around before hanging on a hanger. Heidi Grabbed a plastic hanger out of the 'hanger basket' (plastic hangers are the only kind Heidi will own, she saw Mommy Dearest one two many times ~so no wire hangers here)

She buttoned the top button of the shirt to insure when it dried the collar would not fall flat to the sides when put on.While Heidi was doing all of this..
SHE HEARD THIS IN HER HEAD...

LOL
OK FOLKS
lets start writing in the margin of our lives and books. Feelings are not bad things.


This is the Real Me and NOT Narrative Heidi.

I think We (I) Heidi, compensate for things in life. For Example. When we are jealous. The fact is the feeling is "why can't I?"

but instead of going to that, lets (i) Move to why we (I) feel the way WE (I) do. Lets get in touch with our feelings.

lets find words to express us (I).

for example.

(this is not made up but I thought i had. It may seem simple and stupid, but a feeling of being able describe a moment a time of the year)

You know the hot summer days. The days where the humidity is so high. Even when you just had a shower it feels as if it did not take?
then you go outside.
You are only outside for a matter of minutes. Decide to walk back in your house. As you open the door a blowing of UN-natural frigid air hits your face. The sweat on your face quickly evaporates. The bangs and sideburns of your hair gently blow back. then you feel COLD! How could you feel cold when minutes ago you were outside, and would have sworn that you were in the pits of a sauna?

I know I have just rambled. But I really want to open up a dialog. Communicate. I know I am not the only one that over feels or over thinks. OR MORE SO, NARRATES ONE LIFE!
Lets chat with ourself!
Heidi

Another True Story From The Vault

I haven't been to the doctors in a while.  However I really do need to go to get my antidepressants refilled and my sleeping meds.  It is just last time I was there I was waiting to long in the room all by myself and started to read the pamphlets in the room.  My eyes gazed upon a breast cancer awareness poster that said 1 in 8 women will get breast cancer.  I started to do the math about all of the women that were in the doctors office, then I panicked and it occurred to me that I could be that 1 out of the 8.  By the time the nurse practitioner came in the room I was a hyperventilating mess showing her the poster...she sent me home with a script for Valium.

I have got tons more great stories about doctors and such..so stay tuned for more stories from the vault........

Who Took the FUN out of FUNERALS????

This is an Honest true story......

My Aunt passed almost a year ago.  One of my Family members who attended the wake and funeral commented and said ."Her make-up looked awful"  nothing about how wonderful of person, what she would remember of this person, or how sorry she is for the kids she left behind...,Just that her Make-up looked awful while she was laying in a casket..
(this is the same person who suggested I should have aborted every child I have had...)

(yup, this is my family..and they wonder why I don't talk to them and why some have restraining orders against them so they can not come near my kids)


the only response I had was..."well, you do know she is dead...."

on a side note and  kind of off the subject...I thought a great name/ or slogan for a funeral home should be..

You Mary them, We bury them

Think if you were like Liz Taylor...you married them all and we have a 2 for one special...for every 2 husbands you have Married, you can have every third burial for free...

feeling a little (a lot)  twisted today...

True Stories....

True Stories, is not ONLY one of my favorite movies, but I just love the title, I mean things so out insane that you may question the actual event of it really happening....

My most favorite TRUE STORY IS WHEN....

Christopher was just born, My mom wanted to take me and my new fam out for a dinner. She decided that hooters would be a nice destination.

The waitress was was less then nice.

My mom being well, My mom decided best to complain about the sub par service,

when the manager came to the table my Mom gave the gentleman an earful of gripes concerning the young lady waiting on us.

her very last gripe was..

BY THE WAY

(as she points to our server) THEM ARNT' HOOTERS.

(PROCEEDS TO "2" THUMB IT TO HER OWN MAMMARY GLANDS..as if to point to her own breast)

THESE ARE HOOTERS....

**SIGH**

Heidi

Ps.

I DID NOT SAY I WAS PROUD, I JUST SAID IT WAS TRUE