(no subject)
Nov. 9th, 2003 08:48 amOne month to my birthday.
Yesterday was the day of my aunt's funeral. Thong, who fussed over his clothes even after I asked him earlier if he wanted to buy anything, and I dressed and met Myra and Karen at their hotel by General Mills on 394. We ate. I stopped at the carwash by Menards and ran my car through. Karen, who needed a wash, would not for fear of freezing the doors.
We arrived at the church slightly after 10:00. Stan and Glyn had set up a huge section of memorabilia and pictures for my aunt that was incredible.
The pipe organ in the church revealed itself during the funeral. When I'd glanced at the room earlier to confirm that yellow flowers would work, I'd really not noticed it looming behind the alter, thrusting out over the choir space behind the alter.
The choir was great. Mary Ann read the official Obit that she and Sandy had worked out. Stan performed an incredible piece that he'd worked out with Sandy. Funny, complete with two hats in Dayton's boxes, a black affair suitable for funerals, and her red power hat that she'd worn to my father's funeral. Stan's eulogy brought humor and laughter into the church. One of Sandy's previous ministers also gave a eulogy in a well-well aged, but excellent voice. I'd met him once before at Jones-Harrison.
The only flaw in the ceremony was that they wanted the family to go downstairs after the service. We did, and missed talking to people like Michael, the soloist, and others. They didn't want a line to form, but it really wasn't a good idea. Geri Sullivan came down and talked. As did Sandy the aide that my aunt really liked, and Catherine, the aide that was with her when she died.
We kind of clustered at one of the tables, the five of us.
The soloist that Michael found was incredible. Easy on the eyes as well. There's a story there that I should let die, but that instead I return to pick at.
Scott went back to Fargo, Karen and Myra went back to the hotel to change, and Thong and I went home. I changed. When Myra and Karen came, we drove over the cemetery. Once their and in the right line, we found out that the cover for the niche was not carved yet, and had to decide whether to leave the urn in there or have them lock it up in the office. I sided with locking it up. The niche above was occupied without the cover.
We ate at La Toscana, close to Jones-Harrison. The food was good, but I did not like it as much as I liked the meal at the 3-Muses just up the street and around the corner from my house.
Yesterday was the day of my aunt's funeral. Thong, who fussed over his clothes even after I asked him earlier if he wanted to buy anything, and I dressed and met Myra and Karen at their hotel by General Mills on 394. We ate. I stopped at the carwash by Menards and ran my car through. Karen, who needed a wash, would not for fear of freezing the doors.
We arrived at the church slightly after 10:00. Stan and Glyn had set up a huge section of memorabilia and pictures for my aunt that was incredible.
The pipe organ in the church revealed itself during the funeral. When I'd glanced at the room earlier to confirm that yellow flowers would work, I'd really not noticed it looming behind the alter, thrusting out over the choir space behind the alter.
The choir was great. Mary Ann read the official Obit that she and Sandy had worked out. Stan performed an incredible piece that he'd worked out with Sandy. Funny, complete with two hats in Dayton's boxes, a black affair suitable for funerals, and her red power hat that she'd worn to my father's funeral. Stan's eulogy brought humor and laughter into the church. One of Sandy's previous ministers also gave a eulogy in a well-well aged, but excellent voice. I'd met him once before at Jones-Harrison.
The only flaw in the ceremony was that they wanted the family to go downstairs after the service. We did, and missed talking to people like Michael, the soloist, and others. They didn't want a line to form, but it really wasn't a good idea. Geri Sullivan came down and talked. As did Sandy the aide that my aunt really liked, and Catherine, the aide that was with her when she died.
We kind of clustered at one of the tables, the five of us.
The soloist that Michael found was incredible. Easy on the eyes as well. There's a story there that I should let die, but that instead I return to pick at.
Scott went back to Fargo, Karen and Myra went back to the hotel to change, and Thong and I went home. I changed. When Myra and Karen came, we drove over the cemetery. Once their and in the right line, we found out that the cover for the niche was not carved yet, and had to decide whether to leave the urn in there or have them lock it up in the office. I sided with locking it up. The niche above was occupied without the cover.
We ate at La Toscana, close to Jones-Harrison. The food was good, but I did not like it as much as I liked the meal at the 3-Muses just up the street and around the corner from my house.