Forgetting and Funerals: A Monday Madness of Sorts

We had a funeral this weekend for his grandma. It was a really sweet meeting where people expressed memories and admiration. Grandma O was an incredible women; a real force. She was passionate about many things and fought hard for those things. She wrote books and served on committees for most of her later life.  I didn't know her well, being new to the family. However, I can easily see the results of her influence spread throughout her whole family for generations. All day I could feel the deep love and respect everyone in attendance felt for her and each other. There was a great feeling of reverence for her, for life, and for the Plan of Salvation. Knowing that families are eternal and that we will live together again is a very real comfort at times of loss. I am so grateful for that knowledge, and for a husband that is full of faith. I am so grateful that we can draw closer together through our shared beliefs and devotion. 

I got teary more than once on Saturday. I felt kinda silly, I had only met her twice. But, she still means something to me. His family is now my family, we are all sealed together. Her legacy touches my life, my husband, and our family. But, I still tried to choke back the tears I felt. I wanted it to be about him and his family. I didn't want him distracted by my tears. Yet, they still came on and off. When I saw him teary, tears filled my eyes. When I felt the strong spirit in the room, tears filled my eyes. It was inevitable. As a friend of mine said, "there's something about seeing people love so much." It is so very true, you can't see others love and not be affected by that love. Also, I am just a huge sympathetic crier. Always cry when others cry. I am also a sympathetic thrower-uper, but that doesn't have anything to do with this weekend. 

We were running late to the viewing that Saturday. We felt guilty for being late; we wanted to be there to support his mom and to show love for his grandmother. A funeral is not the kind of occasion to just get out of bed and throw something on. I wanted to look nice; to look respectable. So, even though we didn't have much time I still got in the shower and got ready, how could I not. Even after washing and drying my hair it would not cooperate. I was hurried and disheveled and frustrated as I got my into clothes. I really need a haircut, my hair is a mess right now. As we ran out the door he kept reassuring me that I looked nice. I was in my favorite navy blue dress, with a brooch from my great-grandmother pinned to the waist, and some new heels. Once I got over my disappointment with my hair I felt pretty confident. We ended up making good time weren't very late in the end. We gave lots of hugs and sat in the viewing room with the rest of the family to greet guests. There was lots of chatting with family and more hugging when new people arrived. I was sitting in a chair, listening to one of his aunts, when I noticed something odd. I carefully investigated my concerns only to discover that I was in fact bra-less. In our hurry to get out the door, and my attention obsessively focused on my bad hair, I had forgotten my bra. I was wearing so many layers that I hadn't even noticed. I was stunned and confused and kept thinking about how many hardy hugs I had given in the last hour. After lots of laughter and some quick problem solving we hopped in car and hurried to my near-by sister's house. They were out of town so we let ourselves in, found a bra, and were back in plenty of time for the funeral. Phew. 

 It is so me to make such a silly blunder, especially at a funeral. Typical me. But, even more typical me was to be aching all day to tell everyone we came in contact with; it is just such a good story. I told his aunt, his sister, my family (over the phone), and then later that night the rest of his immediate family. How could I not? Also how could I avoiding telling all of you? A bra is real necessity for any funeral appropriate outfit. Even the best dress cannot compensate for the lack of the appropriate under garments. In my experiences, funerals are about being classy and giving endlessly hugging family and friends, and you cannot confidently do  either without a bra.