Home Again, Home Again

I got back from the funeral in Memphis last night. It was great to see my family. My grandmother has the most hysterical sense of humor. We laughed for a large part of the weekend. It was definitely a Southern funeral, with more casseroles and congealed salads and desserts delivered by little old blue-haired ladies than you could count. It was great to see so many people turn out to support my grandma.

An interesting story... My grandfather, on the night before he went into the hospital, called my grandma into the bedroom from the kitchen and asked who was in the house. She replied that no one was there, as it was about 10:30 p.m. He seemed shaken, and insisted that he had seen someone in the house, but went back to sleep. In the middle of the night, he woke her up asking the same question: who was in the house? She again answered that no one was in the house -- she had checked that the doors were locked before she had gone to bed. The next morning when they woke up, before they decided to call the ambulance to take him to the hospital, he turned to my grandma and insisted that someone had been in the house the night before. In fact, he said, they had been in the bedroom. She was a little bit exasperated, and asked him what they had looked like. His response? There were two of them in bright white robes. How amazing. I'm certain that the visit from these angels made his passing much less frightening for him, and hopefully for my grandmother. Some people may think I'm crazy for believing it, but poo on them. My grandpa was a man of God, who quietly and humbly did God's will. So, I'm proud to say that my grandpa got a personal escort to heaven. Awesome.