What will people say at my funeral?

I went to a memorial service today. The man that I knew was a sweet, child-loving, grandfatherly type. His son spoke at the service and presented a different man...a man who was difficult...a man who didn't provide his kids with a home environment where they could thrive.

I find myself in analysis mode. How does the son's reflections today change my view of the man I knew and his lovely wife? Maybe it doesn't. I didn't have the illusion he was perfect before, but I was still surprised to hear his son speak so poorly of him. I think my impression of the deceased is unchanged, my adoration for his wife is increased, and my view of the son has taken a nose-dive.

My analysis is quickly becoming self-focused. What would my kids say about me? Would they remember the book reading and the snuggling or the times that I lost it and said things I regretted? Would they recount the mom who taught them to cook and to manage their money or the mom that freaked out at them when they made her late?

Hopefully by the time they are speaking at my memorial service, they will be complaining about my old-age habits...like refusing to bathe and hitting people with my cane. In a weird WEIRD way, it is almost comforting to picture them as my adult children. They turned out just fine! And they love me! and I sure did love them.

DEE-LITE-FUL

Yesterday was simply delightful. It was one of those days that I looked like the quintessential stay-at-home mom...the kind they put in the magazines. I was the mom reading her fashion magazine while she cheered her children on from the side of the pool (Hot Daddy was in the pool assisting the Big Guy with his lessons). I was the mom watching her kids play at the park while she munched on her Southwestern Chicken Salad from the sidelines. I was the mom making chocolate chip cookies while her kids played outside on the deck with their water toys. Ahhh...back to reality.

Today is zoo day. 8 kids. There will be no illusion of "calm mom". There will be no illusion of peaceful serenity. There will be yelling. There will be panic: "Jackson, get your hand out of that cage." There will be frustration: "Why can't you girls ALL hold hands?". And, hopefully, there will be sleeping children on the way home.

There had BETTER be sleeping children on the way home.