"Post Mortem Makeovers"
Thursday, January 26th, 2012
Hello folks, thanks for dropping by the porch today. I'm gearing up for a big weekend in Tyler, TX where I'll be speaking at Cowgirl Get-Together 2012! (It was described to me as a redneck Women of Faith event. Boy, howdy! I'll be right at home!) But, the packing can wait. I'm looking forward to spending a few moments with y'all. Have a seat, and let’s chat…~smile~
We southerners have been known to polish obituaries to a fare-thee-well, but even our best efforts pale compared to the stories coming out of North Korea after the passing of their Dear Leader, Kim Jung II. Did y’all know that Kimmie learned to walk at three weeks and talk at eight? Me neither. I don’t know a grandmother around that could tell something like that with a straight face, but those nuggets come from the official records.
That’s the same state run media reporting that temperatures plummeted after the Dear Leader’s passing as Mother Nature grieved. Bears also lamented in the streets, and just today I read where hundreds of magpies descended on his statue during the funeral and cried sadly. No one is suggesting those crows were kin to the ones that recently fell from the sky in Arkansas or the flock of blackbirds mourning somebody in my back yard right now, but who’s to say? Seriously, folks, this takes post mortem makeovers to a professional level. On the other hand, it does remind me of a story.
Many years ago now my cousin and her husband attended the funeral service of a man in their little Mississippi community. Although it was widely believed that the deceased had regularly bent the law, this fact was quite naturally skated over that day— well, almost. For attending the service with my cousin and his wife was her mother, Mrs. Lorna, and while the family matriarch was suffering from age related dementia herself, she still had a pretty good grasp of town history. As they led Mrs. Lorna out of the service, and while still within hearing range of the family, the straight speaking senior gave her own assessment of the dearly departed. “He was a nice man,” she said. “He was a crook, but he was a nice man.” I’m pretty sure they got her out of there faster than quick.
A wise man once said, “We all occasionally stumble over the truth but most of us learn to pick ourselves up and hurry off as if nothing had happened.”
Hugs,
Shellie
Thursday, January 26th, 2012
Hello folks, thanks for dropping by the porch today. I'm gearing up for a big weekend in Tyler, TX where I'll be speaking at Cowgirl Get-Together 2012! (It was described to me as a redneck Women of Faith event. Boy, howdy! I'll be right at home!) But, the packing can wait. I'm looking forward to spending a few moments with y'all. Have a seat, and let’s chat…~smile~
We southerners have been known to polish obituaries to a fare-thee-well, but even our best efforts pale compared to the stories coming out of North Korea after the passing of their Dear Leader, Kim Jung II. Did y’all know that Kimmie learned to walk at three weeks and talk at eight? Me neither. I don’t know a grandmother around that could tell something like that with a straight face, but those nuggets come from the official records.
That’s the same state run media reporting that temperatures plummeted after the Dear Leader’s passing as Mother Nature grieved. Bears also lamented in the streets, and just today I read where hundreds of magpies descended on his statue during the funeral and cried sadly. No one is suggesting those crows were kin to the ones that recently fell from the sky in Arkansas or the flock of blackbirds mourning somebody in my back yard right now, but who’s to say? Seriously, folks, this takes post mortem makeovers to a professional level. On the other hand, it does remind me of a story.
Many years ago now my cousin and her husband attended the funeral service of a man in their little Mississippi community. Although it was widely believed that the deceased had regularly bent the law, this fact was quite naturally skated over that day— well, almost. For attending the service with my cousin and his wife was her mother, Mrs. Lorna, and while the family matriarch was suffering from age related dementia herself, she still had a pretty good grasp of town history. As they led Mrs. Lorna out of the service, and while still within hearing range of the family, the straight speaking senior gave her own assessment of the dearly departed. “He was a nice man,” she said. “He was a crook, but he was a nice man.” I’m pretty sure they got her out of there faster than quick.
A wise man once said, “We all occasionally stumble over the truth but most of us learn to pick ourselves up and hurry off as if nothing had happened.”
Hugs,
Shellie
