Funerals

I didn't attend the funeral, but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of it.

~ Mark Twain

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So, the last I had heard, Leslie's mom was going to dinner with some friends.  Okay, so it was only 3:00 p.m., but old people dinner sometimes is a lot earlier than less-old people dinner.  And I thought maybe they were going somewhere across town.

I came downstairs just as Granny was leaving.  She had on her coat and her pocketbook was sitting in the seat of her stair lift robot thing.

"Oh," she said.  "I thought everyone was already gone."

"No," I said.  "I was upstairs and Leslie is in her room doing some work."

"All right then," she said.  "Well, I guess I better get going."

"Okay.  Have fun!" I said.

I heard her mumble something.  I was pretty sure I heard her correctly, but didn't ask her to repeat it as she seemed a little cranky about having to get going.

"Leslie?" I asked, going to her room.  "Where is your mom going?"

"To a funeral," Leslie said.  "Why?"

"I thought she was going to dinner.  I told her to have fun."

Leslie laughed.  She could tell I felt kind of bad, so she said, "Well, I basically said the same thing.  When she said she was leaving I said, 'You're going to dinner at 3 o'clock in the afternoon?'"

"Um..." I responded, "I appreciate the effort, but that really isn't at all the same as telling someone to have fun at a funeral."

And, for the record, I'm pretty sure that her mom mumbled, "Well, I don't know who has fun at a funeral!" when she left.

Communication is hard.