A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Funeral

Seriously, this could only happen in my family.

As Mom would say, "I kid you not."

Someday, when I'm old, I'll have a good story for my grandkids. I can see myself now, on the rocker on my front porch.

Did I ever tell you kids about your great-grandma Pat's funeral?

The service was very nice and solemn.

The burial was out in the country cemetery next to great-grandpa Rich. The plot is at the top of the hill where it overlooks all the farmland in the area.

Two days before, it snowed 6 inches.

Now the funeral director told us that the dirt lane leading to the top of the hill had been plowed and drivable. Because it is a fairly steep hill, the plan was to send one car up at a time, in case they needed to back down and get a running start.

However, it snowed just a little bit more on the morning of the funeral.

The roads were clear. The fields sparkled with the freshly fallen snow.

The funeral procession stopped at the bottom of the hill.

Up went the lead car.

Up went the limo.

Up went the hearse. Slowly. Slower. Stopped.

Down backs the hearse.

Up goes the hearse.

Slip goes the hearse.

Sideways goes the hearse.

Out jump the pallbearers.

Up walks my younger brother.

Push-dig-push-dig go the men.

Spin go the wheels.

Up goes a Jeep. (My brother's father-in-law-to-be)

Out comes the tow-strap.

Vroom goes the Jeep.

Up goes the hearse!

Understandably, we all parked at the bottom of the hill and walked up.













Oh, and when we got home from the funeral, we found out that the hearse actually ran over my brother's foot! No kidding! My sister-in-law-to-be has a picture to prove it. (He doesn't think it's broken.)

Seriously, this could only happen in our family.

Somehow, in some strange way, it seems fitting that Mom couldn't make it to her own funeral and she ran over my brother trying to get there.

Truth is stranger than fiction.

Blessings to you,
Mamita