Wakes and Funerals in the Family

This posting will be a little long, as no funerals that I have attended have ever progressed without incident.  The first wake that I attended was held at a funeral parlor where we had to ascend a long flight of cement stairs.  The grief of those in attendance was devastating; a little boy had been killed by a bus as he rode his bicycle.  I was overwhelmed by the tragedy of the whole affair.  Now as I came out of the funeral parlor, I was accompanied by my mother. I turned to comment on the beauty of the sunset across the river.  Suddenly, without warning, my knees buckled and I rolled, head first down the cement steps.  When I regained consciousness, a gaggle of strangers was crowded around me, all making distress sounds.  A man came and helped me to my feet, while my mother kept asking what had happened.

I was so embarrassed that I had fainted; I tried to brush the dirt off and noticed that my brand new stockings were now hanging in threads; my knee was bleeding and I had a large lump quickly forming on my forehead.  However I was so embarrassed that I claimed totally perfect health.

That was my first experience with fainting, although not my last.

The next post will be about my mother’s wake.


Most of us are afraid of something. Boogeymen are all around us and, just in case we can’t drum up enough of our own, we can always watch the News or The History Channel and it’s ‘Doom & Gloom’ shows about the end of the world.

But fear is always about something imagined. As I sit here and type, nothing is frightening or scary. However if I let my thoughts wander to an hour from now, to tomorrow, or to next year, then the fear can take hold. Fear is always about something that might (or most likely will not ) happen some time in the future.

So, whenever I feel anxious or fearful about anything, I just remind myself that nothing scary is happening right now, and remind myself that I am ‘blessed’ with a very fertile imagination.

Sanity: A Matter of Perception

It was a perfect June day! As I sat, alone, on the bench outside my husband’s office building, the sun warmed my shoulders, and a gentle breeze wafted through my hair. I waited for my lunch date with my husband and enjoyed my favorite past-time of ‘people-watching.

A well groomed, soft spoken young man approached me and asked if he could share the bench with me. Of course, I said yes and went back to watching the pedestrians as they passed by. However, out of the corner of my eye I noticed that the young man sat closer to the middle of the bench, leaving quite a space at the opposite end. Then he leaned over and mumbled something to the empty space.

I was not alarmed at all, as I realized this fellow might (only might) have a ‘problem’. After all, everyone deserves to be treated with respect, no matter what, I thought. I felt so peaceful and knew that this man meant me no harm.

Suddenly, the young man said in a loud voice, “George, you should thank this nice lady for allowing us to sit here”. “This is my friend, George,” He turned to address me directly.

No judgment call from me … after all I’d had three imaginary friends as a child…with the most unlikely names of Henny Penny, Barley, and Taski. There were as real to me as any of my relatives. My entertaining these thoughts gave George enough time to thank me.

“It’s nice to meet you, George”, I said. “And you’re welcome”, I responded as I leaned over to address the empty space. I thought that shaking hands would be out of the question.

A few moments passed. The young man turned to me and asked earnestly, “Tell me, Ma’am, can you see George?”

As I was quite unwilling to fall down someone else’s ‘rabbit-hole’, I answered truthfully. “No, I can’t see him, but you can, and that’s all that matters.” I smiled my best understanding smile, and broke eye contact.

Another few moments of silence. Suddenly that young man leaped from the bench, turned to the empty space and firmly announced, “C’mon, George. Let’s get out of here. She’s crazy!” He abruptly stomped off, without so much as a backward glance.

There is a p.s. to this tale. When my husband finally came to meet me, he found me alone on the bench, doubled over with tears of laughter streaming down my cheeks. Between snorts, gasps, and giggles I tried to explain what had just transpired.

The look on my husband’s face was one of first, horror, then anger. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to talk to strangers?”, he snarled. And the fact that he totally missed the punch-line of my story set me off into another fit of uncontrollable laughter.

In fact, I am laughing again as I write this.


March 22, 2017

New to blogging, but feeling the urge to write and compose. The “Truth” will be only my own truth – not looking to convince, convert, or otherwise change anyone. You are all beautiful souls, just as you are.

The contents herein may take narrative prose, poetic, or hysterical hyperbole format – whatever comes to mind at the time of writing. Warning – the narratives of my own life experiences are, at times, so bizarre and out of the ordinary that they need no exaggeration.

I have no idea who is interested in such drivel, but I feel the need to get some of this down in writing. I’ll start with a poem.


Silence in the cool dawn mist, but for rhythm of paddle slipping in and out of the dark, flowing calm.
Vast, tilled fields of different hues, weaving the tapestry of Life’s landscape.
The waking forest bursts forth in song, punctuated by the splash of glistening forms, leaping to greet the day.
Thick trees, life-solid, harbor the chanterelle, the squirrel, the lark and the hawk
Clear water bubbling over smooth river rocks, as trickling rivulets snake down the enclosing cliffs.
Around each bend a new vision, new sensation: the Soul’s thrill, Peace of Being, anticipation of the next wonder.
A sudden hush as the red-gold head of Sol raises above the horizon, warming the world.
Nature’s Melody resumes, overwhelmed by the rushing rapids, relentlessly pushing towards the ultimate flight into the patiently waiting pool of belonging.
The River of my Life, where the sun warms the flesh and Love warms the heart.


This is my initiation in into the “Blog World”. The truths expressed here, in varying forms and styles, are based upon my own Life experiences. It feels good to have a space in which to express myself, whenever the urge should strike. 🙂