These past few days have been pretty active. On Saturday, we went shopping for clothes for the viewing and funeral (I actually already had mine, but mom needed some) then went to Memaw's. Ever notice how when someone dies, people flood in TONS of food of every kind? I haven't been able to stop eating all weekend! That's what we did on Saturday...shop and eat.
  Then yesterday, my mom and I went to Palestine to pick up my Uncle Brent for the Visitation (which is just a more politically correct word for 'the viewing'). My Uncle Brent is an interesting character...He's like my dad except a lot more hyper. He has a lot of strange, but very interesting ideas. Something I admire about him is that he has a definite sense of purpose. Like, you can tell that he knows that we're not just living day in and day out...that there's a purpose to everyone's lives. That we're all designed for a purpose, and that God wants us to use our gifts, and he conveys  this in a way that is not just a cliche' 'God-has-a-plan-for-you' type of Sunday School thing. I really like him...he's a good guy. I even like his strange ways. He's a great artsist, too. He was teaching my sister and I stuff this morning...
  But anyway. Yesterday at the 'Visitation', I wore a nice pink shirt with black dress pants and black high heels. We went to the funeral home, and I was actually in a pretty good mood even after we got inside. There was this huge 'toy boat' thing in a big glass case in the lobby, and I occupied myself by looking at that for awhile.
  Finally, everyone got there, and it was time to go into the Viewing Room. I tried to stay towards the back of the line...partly out of just being polite, but mostly because I knew it would be hard to see Papa again...especially after seeing him die. Somehow that made it harder.
  I saw him in the coffin from across the room. I think Memaw went by it first. Of course, she leaned down in there to kiss him, and started crying, and had to go sit down and just cry for a minute. It was almost enough to make you cry just seeing that.
  When I finally went up and looked in the coffin, it looked nothing like Papa to me...not at all.  Papa has a droopy lip on one side, and his eyes and wrinkles are just so...Papa. There's no way to explain it. But they had him all made up...his eyelids were stretched out over his eyes...no wrinkles. His cheeks were not wrinkled, and his lips were stretched thin and straight. It was not Papa. There was no personality there, and you could tell by looking at the picture of him next to the coffin. It was, literally, the difference between life and death.
  I cried for awhile. My sweet cousin Adrianne was crying hard...I hadn't gotten to know her very well just yet, but she's a sweetheart and I love her. We were both just crying and crying...I collapsed on a couch next  to my cousin Austin, and started crying really hard. I didn't think he'd really know how to handle tears, but I was surprised when suddenly my goofy cousin who hardly ever has anything serious to say started rubbing my back, trying to comfort me. I leaned over and hugged him...He may be an annoying underwear-thieving  freak, but I love him.  He's a good guy.
  My other cousin, Caleb, the gentle giant, was on the other side of Austin, and he started sniffling...he had his head in his hands, trying to keep from crying. He's  also really sweet...He tries to be real funny and stuff, but he's much more gentle than Austin. He knows when to stop hitting people with flip-flops.
  Basically, the rest of the night was me being introduced to people I'd never met before, or even heard of, by people I BARELY knew. I couldn't even tell you the names of the people that were introducing me...
  One funny thing did happen though...if you know me, you know I love babies. Like, a LOT. So every chance I got last night I was holding my cousin Stephanie's baby, Taylor, who's a complete doll. At one point during the night, I saw all these older women just sitting there, kind of doting over Taylor, but not holding her. So I decided to go over and hold Taylor, because I needed a baby fix. I went over and started trying to get Taylor out of her carseat, and one of the women said, "And this must be mommy..." I just looked at her in bewilderment for a minute and said, "Nooooooo...I'm only 15." She then said she was sorry like she insulted me or something...No worries! What teenager doesn't want to look older than they really are? hehe...
  Another thing concerning baby Taylor. While I was holding her, some guy in a brown suit came up and said, gesturing towards the baby, "Gimme that."
  I said, "Nooooooooo!"
  He said, "Why not?"
  I said, "Because I love this baby."
  He said, "Well, I'd give her back."
  I guess he thought I was her mother, too. But seriously, what kind of a person comes up to you and commands you to give them your baby? Come on...I even asked her mother, "Do you know that guy?"
  She said, "No, why?"
  "Well,"  I said. "Because he told me to give him your baby."
  Her eyes got all big...lol.
  Leaving Papa at the funeral home that night was quite a tearjerking experience. I hoep he could feel me touching his hands in heaven...Does God let people in Heaven listen to the sounds of your family and friends mourning for you? Does he let them feel your touch? I hope so...Me, my sister, and a few extended family members got together and sang "Amazing Grace" and "In the Garden" and put it on a tape. I hope God is playing it for him in Heaven...
  I didn't like touching Papa at all. I did it for the sake of loving him, but he felt like plastic. He did not feel like a person.
  This morning, I ate breakfast, messed around, listening to Uncle Brent, learned some stuff about drawing, then went to go get ready. I put on this pretty dark red dress I got, did my makeup, let mom do my hair, and then we went to the bank, Kmart, and the funeral.
  We went in through a 'family reception' entrance and into the sanctuary. We sat in a special little area sectioned off for family. My Uncle Bruce (Adrianne, Caleb,  and Austin's dad) spoke  a little bit about him. To Papa, Uncle Bruce was just like a son, and Papa specifically asked that he speak at his funeral. I think Uncle Bruce did a good job, but there's just no way you can make it personal enough by talking about memories you had with a person. You have to experience them. I'm glad I got to with  Papa.
  A preacher also spoke about Heaven and stuff...it was an okay message, but I just don't like hearing from a preacher that didn't know the person. I like funerals and stuff to be personal...
  I saw Papa one last time, and I cried again. We went back into the Family Reception Room. Adrianne was crying really hard again, too. She came up and hugged me. I love her...she's a real sweet person.
  When we left the funeral home on the way to the cemetery (which my great grandfather was the 'Founding  Father' of, having been a preacher) everyone stopped their cars for the funeral procession.
  The actual burial was boring. I don't mean to be disrespectful or anything, but it was. It wasn't even a real burial. They didn't bury him until after we were gone. One interesting thing that happened is that when we got to the burial site, it started drizzling...like God was crying for us. It rained the whole time the preacher spoke, then stopped when he stopped. It started again after awhile.
  Also, I just thought I'd note that I have another ADORABLE baby cousin named Gracie. She has these HUMONGOUS blue eyes and an open mouth all the time...She likes to be cuddled, she likes to wrap her hand around your finger, and she likes to laugh. She's just what a baby should be.
  Other than that, I guess I'll say I ate too much today. WAY too much. As I have everyday since Friday.
  Since Papa died, I've been thinking a lot about Heaven. My whole extended family has, actually. We've speculated and speculated about what Papa must be doing or saying right now. My Aunt Sylvia says he's probably saying, "Man, y'all oughtter see this place!" My Memaw (Papa's wife) says he's probably saying, "Myrtice, why haven't you done your hair today?" lol...I don't know what he's saying, but I just can't wait until I go to Heaven and get to hug him and kiss him on the cheek again...I know that won't be anything compared to meeting Jesus for the first time, but I can't wait to see Papa again.
  I'm so glad I have the hope of Heaven...
  I LOVE YOU PAPA!!! I can't WAIT to see you again...*XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX*