Well, actually it was still dark when I got up but it got that way soon. My mourning dress was hanging right there waiting for me to get on with it so I could get Mom ready so we could be where we're supposed to be, which was a funeral that was more spirit filled than many I have experienced in many years. My father was honored with a steady stream of people who mingled and visited with us for a couple of hours. It was an even split between family and old friends which includes church family. The very coolest thing about Methodism to me is that we cook funeral food and serve it with love. It's a Wesleyan tradition, you know.
Just ask MarMar.
The service was planned meticulously affording easy access for my disabled mother to and from events that ended us up at the cemetery with solemn faced Air Force cadets folding a US flag and playing taps. That was after the tornado siren went off right in the middle of prayer. The church service was so uplifting that I didn't even cry until that flag folding business. I had noticed the two guys standing guard when we arrived in various FH vehicles. Not many followed and that's okay. I'm just glad there was a cool breeze and no sun while we were under that tent. It was a good solid coming together of a family that has lost many recently but refuses to give up on memories. Death cannot take them away.
Babyman paid a visit to the church all hair combed down like a big boy and dressed up. He refused to give me sugar and was just looking for his TeeTee. The line was long and people were patient because they were there to pay respects. One of my cousins got a "look" as a line breaker but she had to get back to work. My coworkers and friends showed up and even someone who could have been Sugardaddy except he's not. And at the end of all this I stopped by the chicken store and some girl told me she could see my white panties through the dress and you never know when there's a perv around. Right, girlfriend. That would be just my luck.