Poor bitterbelle.

I knew someone here could identify the song.

Two of my grandparents were buried. The other two, science! Death is just weird all around.

JZ, that was really lovely to read. When was the ceremony?

At the risk of being all me-me-me, your description of the service has got me missing my own grandfather pretty fiercely. But it's pleasant, if also still very sad, to be reminded of his memorial service just a couple of months ago. Thank you.

A friend of mine, via a somewhat convoluted story I won't rehash here, acquired a set of Muppet glasses, the ones McDonalds gave out as a promo for The Great Muppet Caper.

Now, I want them. And they're cheap-cheap on EBay: [link]

That's very good to hear, Steph. My mother had her gallbladder removed many years ago, and it was no big deal at all.

I found this pic -- but maybe they'll try and sign Jilli up instead -- that'd be a sight, especially if they let her have a parasol and a purse. And I'm partial to this, sure, it's not flattering, but it does make me laugh. Also -- it's big enough that I can print a decent copy. That's my main concern -- most of the pics I have are sized for web, or dead links...

Thanks for the suggestions, guys! I should have something chosen and printed out for him tomorrow evening.

Hey, Kat! You have any high res of me at your nuptials?

Kate, it was Saturday, up at Lake Tahoe. It seems like a rare thing, a memorial that was actually true to the person's life and spirit, that felt sad but good and right. My grandfather would have enjoyed his hugely. Where was your grandfather's service, and what was it like? (Something good, I'm guessing, or it wouldn't be a pleasant memory for you.) Would it have made him happy?

I dunno. Maybe? gimme a sec.

I'm off to krav right now, so no rush rush.

You look like a glamazon in the first one listed as us, you and your boots. And the one after that is a closer shot.

What's this for again?

JZ, that sounds like a lovely ceremony.

Steph, I'm rooting for gall-bladder stuff for your dad, too. My maternal grandma, my mom, and my sister have all had theirs removed while in their 20s and recovered just fine. Apparently the scars got dramatically smaller with each generation.

It seems like a rare thing, a memorial that was actually true to the person's life and spirit, that felt sad but good and right.

At my mom's father's funeral, one of my baby cousins, disconcerted by all the weepy cousins and aunts and uncles and parent, began fooling with the hymnals such that one of us began to giggle and it slowly migrated, and the next thing you know, the whole family side of the church was laughing, snorting, elbowing, howling. When we quieted (it took a while) the pastor paused in his speech and said "It's truly wonderful to have all the P's giggling in the pews again, interrupting me." At which point the whole congregation lost it once again.

Then they played The Yellow Rose of Texas ( a favorite of my grandfather's, who knows why, he had no connection to Texas, or particular fondness for roses) and everyone lost it AGAIN.

This was for a man who, when my cousin said it took her three planes to get to visit him after his last heart attack, replied "You don't look that heavy."

So it was perfect. And thank you for reminding me of that.