Liquor in the Church Parking Lot

     I am finding that death and funerals are exhausting. On  mental, physical and emotional levels. I honestly don't recall the last time I was this worn out.


     This has adversely affected the Million Step Challenge. According to my personal goal, I should have been finished with it by next weekend. While it is doubtful that will happen, I am hoping now for it to be done by the weekend following.
     With that in mind, and at the urging of a friend, I was up at 5am today, to go for a nice stroll.


     I am now even more tired.


     While I am completely exhausted, my children are not! George continues to be George. He bounced onto the bed at 6am Sunday morning demanding a weather report for the day because he wanted to go fishing. (The child is obsessed with fishing.) While he did not get to fish that day, we did decide to go on one of our spur of the moment "Adventures". The kids love it. Every so often, I will look at the piles of chores and obligations, at my kids who are sick of the house and each other, and  yell "C'mon kids! Let's go on an Adventure!" Where we then proceed to meander around the countryside finding different things to do. We never really know where we will end up.
     Kaila suggested it, just as I was thinking it this past weekend. So, I recalled a nifty little out of the way spot, off the beaten path. It has several sets of waterfalls and is this side of magical. We packed a picnic and headed out for the day. I am not even kidding, when I say that we sung every single verse to "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall" on top of our lungs on the way there.


     It was the perfect outlet for the kids. Especially George. George has zero fear, and now accompanies his craziness with hummed or sung circus music, ending with "HEY!" or "Hup hup!!!!" as he flips or balances or does whatever he does that causes my gray hairs. Last week, I was greeted at the front door with "George learned how to do flips today." "Oh? That's nice." "Yes. But, it was AROUND THE BASKETBALL HOOP!!!!!" I still don't know how he managed it. It's 9 feet up in the air.
     He can now balance across the railing of the front porch, do impressive flips around bars of swing sets and playground equipment, swim to the bottom of a 10 foot pool to retrieve diving rings ("But, that hurt my ears, Mom, so, I don't think I will do it again for awhile.") He can stand on the cross bar of his bike, do wheelies, and has created an entire pit of mud complete with rivers, ponds, roads and bridges in the yard. He also got my cousin to give him a ride in her convertible with the top down.


     Anyhow, we played in the waterfalls for awhile, and even found a swimming hole near the base of one set of falls. We finished up with a picnic near the Genesee River, a few miles up the road, and found ice cream on the way home. It was the perfect "escape" day.


     My Dad's funeral was the day before our Adventure. I suppose we have been lucky, really, because my siblings and I have really not had to deal too much with death as a whole. Those of us in the medical field have, of course dealt with it, but, not really very often on a personal level. Our Dad's passing was, I think, pretty traumatic for us all. From the fall down the stairs, to the final breath, it was rough. I wasn't sure how we would all get through the funeral, and everything leading up to it. We arrived at the church - the same church I was married at, and Kaila was baptized at - and once all assembled, one of my brothers whipped out tiny bottles of liquor and handed one to each of us. You know, those sample bottles you can find at the check out of all liquor stores? "Oh my Gosh, Ben! Liquor in the church parking lot??!!!!" was my first reaction.
     It was the best idea ever. We all stood in the ever present "Fisher Circle" and toasted Dad before heading in. It was the perfect thing to brace ourselves for a funeral we all wanted to be done with. Anyhow, I think the grieving process is normal and natural. I just think that I never really experienced it to it's fullest extent before now. I suppose you can't understand it, until you experience it.


     Poor Joe arrived home from Boy Scout Camp at 10 pm the night before the funeral. He had spent a week at the Camp on Chautauqua Lake, about an hour from home. He informed me that he had only showered once the entire time he was there - the day he arrived. It was announced that he did not need to shower, because he had been in the lake most of the time. He was hustled into the shower at home and sent off to bed in short order,  because we all had to be up early the next day. Once at the church, Joe became self appointed door holder. I was so preoccupied, that I really wasn't paying attention.
     About halfway through the funeral, one of my brothers tapped me on the shoulder and whispered "Can you have George head back there and close the doors? I can't hear over the traffic." Off George went. He was gone. And gone. And gone. And gone.
     Minutes later, he was back "Mama?" he whispered "What doors do I need to close?" I told him the ones that were open to the outside. And he was off again. I sat in absolute stillness, looking strait ahead, as I heard the unmistakable sounds of whispered arguing and scuffling taking place in the back of the church. George's absence was lengthy, and something was definitely happing behind me someplace. However, I was at the front of the church at my Father's funeral, and I did not dare to turn around. With eyes closed, I listened as the muffled noises continued. Eventually, George reappeared beside me. "Mama?" he whispered angrily, "It was the back doors to the outside that were supposed to be closed, right?" "Yes." "Joe wouldn't let me. He was still holding them open!!" "What?? He was still back there  holding the doors open???" I whispered back in shock. Peaking over, I saw a very upset Joe sliding into the other end of the church pew. I had no idea that he had not even been with us for nearly half of the service. Biting back an inappropriate snicker at my boys, we managed to get through the rest of the service without further incident. Peppered by "Mama? How many songs do we have left before the end?" from George.


     Now, we are back to getting life back to normal. I say this while thinking about Kaila's hair. She has been begging for sometime for permission to have her hair dyed an auburn color. I finally acquiesced yesterday, and hauled her in to my sister's salon. Four hours later, and my kid looks exactly like the Little Mermaid. It just about killed me to let Kaila have her long thick beautiful hair dyed. I felt very old and very parental as I thought of the nine million reasons why she shouldn't do it. But, it turned out beautiful, and she is thrilled, and my sister is amazing at what she does. Also, red hair dye tends to fade pretty quickly...
     Also with life back to normal, canning/freezing season is here! So far I have canned strawberry jam, and frozen some peas. I intend to exploit the child laborers at home and drag them to the blueberry fields in short order, so I can freeze blueberries and make blueberry jam next. I will hate every moment of it, but, I do love the finished product! Also, I think I am sufficiently over the peach trauma from a few years ago, to give peach preserves another try. I dunno. We'll see what time and energy allow.


     That's life in a nutshell around here. I promise, the next post will be so much happier!