Officer Unfriendly

Last week, the husband and I barely stopped to breathe. Decisions, notifications, endless phone calls, funeral arrangements, travel arrangements, etc.

I was trained as a journalist and my current writing work always involves deadlines. I understand deadlines and in fact, I work a little faster and a little better with my feet held to the fire.

We wanted the Belle's obit to appear in several papers. The husband instructed me to get it to the funeral home (with the photo) by noon -- so I had 20 minutes.

An aside -- I had just finished editing it for the umpteenth time and I was very emotional. The husband and I had gone through photos before he left for work and I was weepy with memories. But I threw on some clothes and headed off with tears in my eyes.

I was speeding (not much) through a school zone. This is not the kind of school zone where children walk to school. This is a gated community school -- the kind where your biggest risk is a 16-year old child runs into you with his Jaguar. But, it is a school zone.

I got pulled over for speeding. I was crying uncontrollably. I had the obit and the photo sitting on my passenger seat. I gave Officer Unfriendly my driver's licence and attempted to explain the circumstances.

Officer Unfriendly gave me a speeding ticket.

Writing an Obit

In Journalism school, one of your first assignments is learning to write an obituary. It's good writing experience, plus you learn to do a little research. Every journalist (with credible training) has written numerous obits.

The husband (the boss of me) is handing out assignments. Call this person! Figure this out! Then he said, "Would you please start a draft of her obituary?"

I am a writer by trade but in this moment, I am the daughter-in-law. I'll do it for Big Daddy but I am struggling. I do not want to write about her military experience, her nursing career, her stellar ability to maneuver wifedom and motherhood. Here's what I want to write:

She

is the ultimate southern belle.
Trying to out cranky each other made us laugh and cry.
She's a clothes horse and I will miss watching her shop or try on clothes.
There is no wife on earth who has been a more fierce protector of her husband.
She's been the "leap the fence" kind of Mom and Grandma.
Her huge family always knows that the sister is there for them any time.
She is cute, kicky and sassy.

She did not give birth to me but I am losing a mom.

So, I must get back to the regular obit. We probably won't include much of the above. But, I've said it.

Another Sleepless Night

We're sleeping in fits and starts. I don't really know what that means but it seems to be appropriate.

The husband and I went to visit Hangdog in the Home this morning. Beforehand, we had our coffee, competed on the crossword and did our normal routine. (Repetition gives me comfort.) Then the husband said, "Want to know what I was thinking about at 3:00 a.m.?"

I'll give you a few clues:

Guilt
Benefits, insurance, etc.
Obituaries
Funeral Plans
Financial things that need to be done
Paperwork and more paperwork

Yep, I was awake too and thinking about many of the same things.

Baby

It's been brought to my attention that the 18-year old probably doesn't enjoy being referred to as "the baby." This comes from the person who still considers me her baby.

I was reading about the 20-year anniversary of the movie, Dirty Dancing. The main character was named Frances, but everyone called her "Baby." As nicknames go, this one seems flattering and endearing.

The baby says that all old people read the obituaries, check the weather continuously and do the crossword. I'm officially an oldie! Have you ever noticed how many obituaries include a ridiculous nickname? How is there any dignity in listing someone as John "Buzz Saw" Doe? Ok, I made that one up but I have seen many more that were equally stupid.

The husband sometimes calls me "Babydoll." (When I'm annoying him he has other names that are not quite as flattering.)

I think it's an honor to be someone's "baby."