Back home, well, sort of

I'm back from Texas and I have made one decision. I am doing my own funeral.

I think what I'll do is get a video camera and once or twice a year video my own eulogy so that if I go during that year it'll be ready. I can then update it year to year. And I will probably not have an open casket. I really don't think I would have recognized Granddad if I had seen him on the street. He had lost quite a bit of weight in the last few months. But still, I was glad I went.

Hana was a big help with Preston and Preston was exceedingly well-behaved for a kid who spent about 5 days in the back of the car. Back seat, not the trunk. Although there was that one day in Arkansas when it was close. And the DVD player helped.

Granddad's viewing was Thursday night with the funeral service on Friday morning and then the graveside service Friday afternoon. His funeral service was held at the Pleasant Ridge Church of Christ in Arlington, Texas where he was a member for 64 years, and he was buried about an 45 minutes away in Boyd, Texas next to his first wife. His second wife already has a stone there on the other side of him just waiting for her time to come. All in all, it was an interesting time. A time to see family, to remember the history of our family and to see how things were many years ago. I'm glad I went. And my mother was very appreciative of all of her kids being there. It was hard but it was good. He was 96 years old and as one uncle said, he used his equipment up.

I took Preston mainly because he was unknown to most of my family. Since we adopted him in December of '07 my father is the only member of my family who had met Preston. But he is not the shy little boy he was a year ago. He did wonderfully. And I want to take this opportunity to say thank you to all my family for taking him in with such open arms.

Thank you Thomas for buying him the cowboy hat and belt and making him feel like a real Texan. Thank you mom for taking him by the hand and introducing him to cousins I didn't even know as the "newest grandchild". Thank you Phil and Linda for letting him ride with you from Weatherford to Arlington and for introducing him to Whataburger. Thank you Maribeth for giving him some new movie suggestions for his ride home and for telling him the stories about what a brat his daddy was. Thank you Joel for sitting with him at the bar in Mesquite Pit so he didn't feel so alone and for not letting him hit on the bartender too hard. (She was cute though.) Thank you Terry and Tom for letting him burn the gas up in your "lawn tractor"(think riding mower) even though he wasn't actually cutting the grass, just driving all around the yard as fast as he dared. Thank you John for riding behind him on said "tractor" so he wouldn't run into the cars. Thank you Granny and Gramps for letting me drive your car to Texas in the first place. Thank you Tim for giving him an up close and personal encounter with a Brangus bull. Seriously, it was close.

There were many more good times, and the one thing I heard most often was "It's good to see you, considering the circumstances." I hope that when I go, my family will use that time they get together as a time to renew their relationships with one another. Pay tribute to me by getting closer to one another. What more can you ask for.

Anyway, it was a good trip. We came home at a slower rate than we went down and stopped in Nashville for a visit to the Opryland Hotel and Opry Mills Mall. Beautiful hotel. And if you see Yoni in the Opry Mills Mall selling Dead Sea Salt Exfoliatant, don't even glance at her. She will suck you in and it'll take 30 minutes to get away from her without buying an $80 jar of hand soap. And down by the Rainforest Cafe is a stand with about 20 different candy machines on it. Drop a quarter in the one that sells Tropical Fruit chic-let sized gum, turn the handle all the way around, and then start jiggling the handle back and forth. It'll keep dumping candy. You may be able to empty the machine for a quarter. But we ran out of pockets.

So we got home on Thursday and I went back to work on Friday so I would know how my truck was loaded. Got a call from Sheila Friday morning that Isaac was sick and she was taking him to the ER. Seems he's been lying to us again about checking his sugars and he was in ketoacidosis. Diabetics get this when they don't control their sugar and the ph level in the body goes toward acid too much. He was in pretty bad shape. So Sheila stayed with him in the hospital til he came home on Sunday about 1230 and I left for Chicago Sunday at 3. What a great weekend. (Note the sarcasm).

So I've been to Chicago and Waukesha, WI, got a load from Libertyville, IL that went to Avon, OH, and here I sit in Avon waiting to get over the receiver for my 930 am appointment. It's an easy load. Thirteen skids of foam that weigh about 1850 pounds total. After I unload I'll be headed to the shop and then home.

My friend Bob, who was my best man, is coming to the house tomorrow night as he and his son are traveling to Oklahoma where his son will attend college. Which makes me wonder. When you introduce someone as "he was my best man" is it necessary to say "best man in my wedding"? Wouldn't "best man" suffice? Where else would they be a "best man"?

Just wondering.