A Car Accident, A Fire, And A Lost Tooth

(This was written on September 20th.)

The morning began like any other.

Okay, well, almost.

This was the morning of my Nana’s funeral.

The kids got up and had their breakfast and daddy let me sleep in a little bit. I had been up the night before trying to find the words that I wanted to share. They never did come just right. I thought I might squeeze in a few minutes to write before we had to leave. I would have been able to maybe…

except the phone rang.

Our ride was stuck behind an accident on the highway and had to make a detour.

Then my son comes running into the house (the boys had been playing outside with daddy to burn some energy) in a panic. The neighbor’s house has smoke billowing out the upstairs window. My husband had gone to see if he could help. She had melted the handle of her pot on the stove. He was helping her shut off her smoke detectors.

My moments were gone.

It was okay.

The little bit that I had was enough.

We grabbed the three car seats out of our broken van and threw them into our friend’s van. We loaded up all of the kids and the double stroller and my bag of treats and snacks (and diapers) and we were off.

The ride to the funeral home was only 5 minutes (thank goodness) and they escorted us in the door to be with the rest of the family. They were hugs and tears and anticipation.

The service was well orchestrated (thanks to my dear mama). The words that were spoken were a beautiful rendition of a life well lived. All the grandchildren were well behaved and most listened intently (at least the older ones). After the service was over we got to have one last look at Nana and then we were escorted to the tea in the room next door.

There was an assortment of people from years gone past coming to hug and give well wishes. The kids were interested only in the food and we made sure they were well fed to have energy for the burial which would follow. I grabbed a couple of cups of coffee and 1/2 sandwich, in between hugs, to keep me going.

At some point during my conversations with friends and family my oldest son reaches out his hand to me. I put out my hand to receive what he was giving me only to discover a tooth.

Going to a funeral with children is like keeping a little bit of reality with you. You can’t really let go of your emotions because you are in charge of little people and you need to keep them in line.

After the tea we went out to the burial and then back home again.

By the time we got home I was ready for a long sleep, but company was coming for dinner. My sister and her family, my mom and dad, and my aunt all came over to visit. Thankfully, dinner was take away from a local restaurant. I don’t think any of us had energy left to prepare a meal.

Our house was dark and quiet by 9pm and everyone was sleeping including the mommy and daddy.

Thank you for allowing me to share my memories with you.

Categories Family