When I got to work yesterday my brother found me as I walking out to be with a student to tell me Joy's husband had passed away. We made quick conversation about what time to head over to the funeral home. Then we went on with our day.
So after a whirlwind of after school pick and drop off of kids, I went home chocked down dinner and headed to the funeral home.
As my brother, my BWF and I entered a funeral home in the city we had never been to more or less heard of...my brother turns to me and said, "this place smells like Grammy's house." Oh-my-gosh he was right the place smelled just like my grandmother's house. Then we entered the funeral parlor looked around and my brother turns to me and says, "those are Grammy's chair." There they were the exact same pair of chairs that flank the end table in her living room. My brother then commented that he was waiting for the Chipmunks Christmas album to begin playing and he would have felt like he was standing in my grandmother's Downersgrove home.
Then we waited to greet Joy.
As we waited I commented that her husband looked good. I didn't know Joy's husband but for some reason I was expecting a man who was feeble from years in a nursing home suffering from Alzheimer's. Not the case. Then my BWF whispers to me to look at his sport coat. I thought, Joy, simple woman of simple means. Then as we were nearing to leave I commented to Joy (as I don't often do this at funeral because...) that her husband looked good. It was then that she said "ya he does except for that darn coat."
Joy's husband laid there in his casket with the most hideous 1970's era heavy polyester mostly red with blends of yellow, green and navy blue large hounds tooth sport coat. "He loved that ugly thing" she said, "we all hated it". She continued telling us how every time he put it on everyone in the family begged him to take it off. Joy said she use to tell him that his ugly sport coat needed to go to the cleaners but that he always followed with that he needed to wear it on Sunday. And on went the story. One day he entered the room wearing the sport coat when his own mother insisted he take that coat off that it was hideous thing and if he didn't she would make sure he was buried in it.
There we stood in the middle of the funeral parlor all laughing realizing new life doesn't always have to be laden with sadness. My BWF said "well he got the last word" and I said "and his mom got her way."
So Arthur entered the gates of heaven looking similar to Norman Fell's character Stanley Roper from Three's Company. Without a doubt felling like he owned heaven.