Time Off For Dead Behavior

Went to a funeral today for my Uncle Ben. He was a great dad, model husband, all-around sweet guy and really smart, too. But that's not what this is about. This is about funerals in general. Okay, I admit it. I like them (as long as the honoree lived a long, full life.) They are little mini family reunions right in the middle of the week! Everyone stops what they are doing, gets dressed up, heads to the church and reflects on the meaning of life (and death).

Then we all lined up in our parking-lighted vehicles and got a police escort through a bunch of major intersections (cool) and since we were near the end of the procession the police car, lights blazing, would pass me to catch up to the next crossing. And every single time my heart stopped, feeling as though I'd done something wrong. (I had no idea I was so paranoid--or forgetful--I'm going to lay off the Equal.)

The other passengers in my car didn't want to participate in the processional--said it was too slow. But I insisted, assuring them it would be the quickest way. By the time we got to the burial site everyone agreed with me. A police escort can be fun!

A slight drizzle added ambience to the canopy and cooled off what would have been a sweltering 90 down to 70. Did I mention the pall bearers (cousins' sons including mine) looked handsome in their suits?

Tomorrow I'll tell you about going to Neiman Marcus in Downtown Dallas to the Zodiac Room for lunch. Riveting, I assure you!