Today I attended the funeral of a neighbor and my second Mom growing up who had to put up with me almost as much as my own Mom because I spent so much time in her home with her two daughters that were my best friends. Today I was filled with such gratitude for this great lady who always made me feel more welcome than I probably deserved and gave me a home away from home along with some cherished memories.
There were three houses in a row and five of us neighborhood friends (one of them being my one-year older brother) gathered today for a picture and a chance to reminisce. Talk about Spanky and the Gang--we had such a fun childhood and so many thousands of memories. As confessions and apologies started for anything we did that might have been hurtful, especially to the younger boy that lived between our two houses, I had a chance to apologize for stealing from Brad's bedroom drawer a little coke bottle replicated bottom opener that seemed so incredibly cool that I thought I had to have it. There, my conscience feels better already. Maybe that is why I grew up resisting Coke--it has always been a reminder of my guilt.
And with that newly cleared conscience, I can absorb the wonderful message that funerals always inspire to live life to the fullest and be deserving of the glorious talks that I have prepared for my children to read at my funeral. You don't think I am going to let my sarcastic, comedic kids come up with their own talks, do you?
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