Another week, another funeral.

This time it was at a bit more of a distance.  The mother of my college friend Cheri died late last week, and the viewing and funeral were this week.  Bettie and I went up north on Tuesday afternoon, and got back late Wednesday.

I didn’t know Cheri’s Mom all that well.  I hadn’t seen her for decades, maybe since Steve and Cheri got married (way back in the seventies!!).  But I knew her, and I know her daughter, and I mourn and grieve with them.

Bettie and I became the official family photographers, wielding four cameras between us and following the family from the fancy new gazebo over to Cracker Barrel.

It was a great funeral service, as good as funeral services can be.  Her #1 son-in-law spoke, and her former minister, and her current minister.  Lots of laughter, and some tears and snuffles along the way.  I got to catch up some with Steve and Cheri, and meet two of their three children as adults (instead of remembering them at 6 and 8).  And nobody makes scalloped potatoes the way church people do.

But I’m done.  If my count is accurate, this was my fifth funeral this calendar year.  So if you’re considering dying soon, cut it out.  I can understand a funeral every year, maybe two a year, but not five.  Too bunched together.  I won’t have it.

No exceptions, Beth.

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