Funeral Part 1

Our weekend was non-stop.

Airline tickets, even with berevement rates were still pricey, especially for a family about to go on Medicaid. But my aunt thought it would be easier for us to fly, so she paid for the tickets. I wasn’t so sure about that.
Friday morning, we went to the airport, two wrecks delaying us along the way. Then, we spent about 30 minutes in the cold waiting for a bus to pick us up from the parking lot. I finally called and told them they needed to get here before my baby got sick. He was fine, but I was freezing my butt off.
Then we waited to check our luggage in. There was only one person in front of us, but they took forever, getting on their cell for some reason so when it was our turn, the snobby lady at the counter said, “I can’t check you in.” That’s it.
Umm…okay…. why?
 
You must check in 30 minutes prior to departure.
 
It’s a minute past… Louie replied, obviously getting upset.
She told us, quite frankly, that she couldn’t override the system and let us stand their, twiddling our thumbs. I finally asked if she could reschedule us but it wouldn’t get us there in time for the funeral. Sooooo, I started bitching about why we were late. She was soooo rude. She just turned around and walked away. There was another traveler, sympathetic to us, trying to figure out a way to get us on the plane. A few minutes later, the lady walked back.
Okay, I can get you on, but I can’t guarentee your luggage will be there.
Then she asked how much luggage we were checking in and when I went to ask her if the stroller and carseat counted she sighed and said, “I need to know the number of luggages you.are.checking.in.”
 
If I wasn’t in a hurry, I would have had a chat with her manager.
Anyway, after removing LJ from his Snugli and pretty much getting undressed, we made it on. We discovered they hadn’t put our seats together, but the flight attendant was pleasant and said she would seat us next to each other. Low and behold, there were at least 5 extra seats, so even though the lady who checked in our luggage said we couldn’t possibly have room for the carseat since it was full, I was content. We had a layover in Chicago anyway. And LJ wasn’t even bothered by take off or landing.
Once we arrived in Memphis, Louie left his suit on the plane and had to go back. That took so long, my cousin was able to arrive, load our luggage, and I was able to figure out how to strap LJ in without that carseat base.
We arrived at the funeral home and Louie rushed to change into his suit. I was in my black sweats (they’re kinda cute…) and a purple hooded shirt. I wasn’t allowed to change, either, since the family viewing was about to end in 10 minutes. The baby was immediatly swept from me.
My sweet grandmother lyed there in the casket, her makeup neatly in place, wearing a cute black dress with beads. I know she probably loved the dress, despite it’s lack of color. They had put lipstick on her, which was a little unusual. I just stood there as a flood of memories overcame me and I started to cry.
It was hectic because soon after they were closing the casket and letting friends in. I had to introduce Louie to lots of people (my family is big). It was nice that Louie got to be there to comfort me. He told me that if I were a fifties gal, I’d have looked just like my grandmother.
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