Friday, October 29, 2010
My friend's grandpa died late Thursday night, while in vacation in Florida. His wife and children were able to fly down to be with him as he was taken off from life support. Now comes the task of seeing his family carry out his wishes, and watching them regroup. Funerals, and death in general, do not bother me. I'm better than most, I think, when it comes to that. I've been lucky enough to have grown up spending summertime visiting relatives/friends of my grandma in nursing homes. I've been there when two friends dads were home for hospice. It doesn't bother me. I'd love to work with seniors, or do something with hospice, or ?
What does bother me is that I have nothing to wear. I know... the funerals have nothing to do with me. No one really cares what I wear. But I do. I remember when a good friends mom passed away. I was at my heaviest weight. The people that I would know attending the funeral were ex-coworkers that hadn't seen me in years and I was a balloon. I had nothing to wear to the funeral that fit me. I had nothing in my closet that fit me.. period. It was that time and space where I couldn't bring myself to buy yet another larger set of clothes to wear. I got to the funeral home early and couldn't make myself go in. I stalled by going to Target.. convinced that maybe I could find something "better" than the too-tight clothes that I had on. Trying on clothes was too frustrating so I wrangled up the courage to cross back over the street to the funeral home. I went inside.. no one said a word about my clothes, weight, anything.. but I still felt out of place, wishing that I wasn't there.
So, now years later, I find myself in the same position. I have nothing appropriate that fits in my size. Sigh. and this time it is my best friend's grandpa's funeral so it's like an extension of my own family.
On a lighter note, I will be in the LIVE studio audience of the Twin Cities Live show today (friday).