We all die.

I just hope that when it's my day...I go peacefully...which would be an oxymoron if you knew MY family.  They are all so loud...and up in your business.

So, last week, my Aunt's step mom passed away from cancer.  She was a lovely person, always had kind words to say, kept her dirty jokes softly in your ear.  She was as she appeared from the outside, she was a great step mom to my Aunt and her sister.  She was a wonderful Gramma to my cousins.  SHE will be missed dearly, but one and all that knew her.

Gramma Kath will be missed.

Cancer sucks.

*shameless plug*  Kids and I are walking again this year for Relay for Life.

Anyways, I try not to go to many funerals.

If I had my way, there wouldn't be any funerals...therefore we all would live...FOREVER....

This particular "memorial" (because that sounds better) was an all in one kind of thing.  A wake followed by the memorial.  I felt obligated to stay for the whole thing, even though I just wanted to go, hug my family and run the hell out of there.

It is a day to say goodbye, a day to get together to remember, I just emotionally can't handle it.

As I sat in my chair at the back of the funeral home, my arms crossed over my stomach as if to hold it all in or kept any from getting to me, I listened to the Catholic priest give his schpeal. 

This feels like a full mass, I thought to myself.  Wonder if this counts as going to church for Easter?

What? 

It felt like an Easter sermon. 

Just sayin.

The longer he went on the further my brain drifted.

When will it be my time? 

What will I die from? 

I want to be cremated I know that.  I like this memorial service, but I'd want it to be less churchy, more personable.  Yeah. 

Wonder who would come to my memorial?  Would we need the WHOLE funeral home, as Kath did, or would we only need the one partitioned section?

What would I do if this was my Mom?  Does she have a will?  Am I even a contact person in case of an emergency? 

Do I fly down to AZ to get her body?  Do I have her cremated there?

At this point the memorial is wrapping up...and I'm reminded that life is short. 

Kath was only 62.

I better get on that bucket list...and make sure my Mom has her affairs in order...and my own.