Comic Relief at a Funeral

We just returned from Indiana, where we spent nearly a week visiting Reagan's great-grandmother in the hospital and, ultimately, at her funeral. Before we left, I told Reagan we were going because Grandmother was about to go to heaven. Reagan responded, "But I want to hug her first." She had plenty of opportunities, as Grandmother held on for three days after we were told she wouldn't likely make it through one night. Even though Grandmother wasn't able to respond and had an oxygen mask on her face, Reagan wasn't afraid to go right up to Grandmother and pat, kiss, or just talk to her.

Before visitation at the funeral home, I had warned Reagan that we would be having a celebration to say goodbye to Grandmother and that some people would be sad. I also told her that Grandmother's spirit had gone to heaven, but that she would be getting a new body there, so she didn't need her old body. When we arrived and Reagan saw Grandmother all dressed up, looking pretty good, I guess she figured this must be her new body. Reagan asked, "Is this heaven? Are we in heaven?" Um, no. She also proceeded to touch and poke at Grandmother and asked me, "Why she not squishy like me?" Um, I don't know, but I'm not going to touch her and find out. At one point, Reagan was jumping and making a sweeping gesture with her arms, saying, "Celebration party! Celebration party!" I asked, "What are we celebrating?" and she replied, "Grandmother goes to heaven!"

The last story is unrelated to the funeral, but it did happen in the kitchen of the funeral home, so it's worth mentioning. Reagan saw a sign and asked her cousin Melanie what it said. Melanie told her it was a "Thank You for Not Smoking" sign, and Reagan began her anti-smoking rant. (She takes after me in that respect.) She said, "We don't smoke! Only the bad people smoke." She added a few more comments that I couldn't really understand, but I clearly heard this next part. Now, imagine that she is wagging her finger, totally animated, while she gives this speech: "And Jesus comes down and tells the bad people, 'Don't you smoke!'--but they don't listen!" A preacher in the making, perhaps?

All in all, the funeral was a fitting tribute to my grandmother. I don't think she would have minded the levity Reagan added. She might even be laughing in heaven.

Puppet Show

This might actually be considered more of a "What Presley's Doing Now" entry, but it does include Reagan.

A few days ago, Reagan had assembled a makeshift puppet theatre, which consisted of her plastic ballet bar with her plastic ballet mat draped over it (never mind that she has an actual puppet theatre that her cousins Cody & Camille gave her for Christmas!). She was holding a pink bunny puppet and began telling her story.

Suddenly, baby sister Presley erupted in spontaneous applause! She may not have understood what the story was all about, but she did know that when someone puts on a show, you should clap. It was priceless.

Whatever Happened to "Sunday Best"?

I didn't wear pants to church until I was nearly 30. Almost never--except for the few times when my mother conceded that the 12-18" snowdrifts in the gravel parking lot of our rural Indiana church were too high to navigate in heels. Then, and only then, was I allowed to wear courderoys with boots. But my hair was still meticulously styled, accented with a bow or ribbon.

Still, on most Sundays, you'll find me in a dress or skirt with heels--unless, of course, it's my week to sing on the praise team, and I'm trying to fit within a mandated color scheme and still comply with the required skirt length, as stipulated in our dress code. Then, it's just easier to wear pants.

I understand what churches are trying to do--to be a welcoming environment that says, "Hey, you don't have to have fancy clothes to worship with us. Come as you are!" I get it. But it's almost never the "have-nots" who dress down for Sunday services. In fact, experience tells me that the poorer the congregation, the better dressed they are. This can be observed in the churches of third-world countries, as well as the poorer neighborhoods here in the States.

In my own affluent Brentwood church, any given Sunday can bring out gentlemen in suits (usually the older crowd) and teenagers in ripped jeans and concert T-shirts. Honestly, it's not the attire of the teens that gets me. It's the adults who think they're still kids! Ugh.

The truth is, I can't get away from my "Sunday Best" roots. I think little girls should wear darling dresses and bows in their hair. I think young men should wear a belt and dress shoes. Think of it this way: we get dressed up to go out to dinner on our anniversary, or for a special date, or to go to the theatre (stage, not cinema). Why on earth wouldn't we get dressed up for our special date with God each week? It's a matter of reverence.

The African-American church still gets this. And I admire them for it, among other practices. (Most A-A churches also seem to understand that God's working is not limited to the time between breakfast and lunch on Sunday morning. They are guided by the Holy Spirit--not by the dinner bell.)

So, this morning, I'll be sitting in my pew in a skirt and heels--even with the inch of snow that covers the ground here in Tennessee. (By comparison, this equates to the foot of snow from my youth in Indiana.) And my two precious daughters will be in cute dresses with bows in their hair. (Well, ok, Presley won't have a bow in her hair, since she doesn't actually have any hair just yet.) I know that doesn't make me more spiritual or a better worshipper than the guy in ripped jeans. But it's what I need to do to get to a place of worship. It's what my upbringing and spirit tell me is right...for me...and my family.

What We Did Today

We finally got a little snow in Tennessee, so Reagan and Mama went out to play. After a few minutes of running around, kicking the snow, and making snowballs, we came inside for some hot cocoa with marshmallows. Yum!

How I Communicate...

The part about the iPod is correct, especially now that I have my new pink Nano that matches my pink RAZR phone!

You Communicate With Your Ears

You love conversations, both as a listener and a talker. What people say is important to you, and you're often most affected by words, not actions. You love to hear complements from others. And when you're upset, you often talk to yourself. Music is very important to you. It's difficult to find you without your iPod.

How Do You Communicate?