Mass, Turtles, and Ice Cream, in One Post

We survived the mass. It was...erm...Catholic. Really, really Catholic. And I got a little peeved at the priest, truth be told, because he intimated several times that Aunt D wouldn't make it to heaven without prayers of intercession...and I loved her and considered her a wonderful person who more than answered the criteria for a pass through the gate. I actually thought "How dare he!"

Also, for some reason, when he mentioned that whole "I am the resurrection and the life..." part where Christ said people would never die? Yeah, umm...I thought "epic fail!" and nearly giggled. I managed not to, but it was a close one.

It was even harder when I noticed that the Christ on the crucifix was doing the Nixon peace-fingers thing while hanging up there...good grief...

I got a real workout, all that stand and sit and stand and sing and sit and pray and kneel and stand and sing and stand some more...whew.

We went to Uncle T's house after, met a number of folks, talked about Aunt D and how she could piss off my grandmother like a champ, and hold her own with my grandfather, and her time as a Brannif (sp?) stewardess, and her life and how well she lived it. It was nice.

After a while, I felt like it was time to go...probably because Bird wanted to swim in the pool and I didn't want him in there with no adults, sooo...we hugged and good-byed and promised to keep in touch...and maybe we will. I know I'll e-mail Uncle T, anyway.

We changed into casual things and headed to a turtle rehab center nearby with Aunt A (Mum's sister) and Cousin K (Aunt A's daughter). It was cool - they had a sort of museum room with shells, fossils, and turtle lore, and then outside were tanks with recovering turtles. Some of them were up for adoptions. We adopted one:

His name's Carlisle - isn't he cute? He's freakin' huge - the picture doesn't do him justice...I have a ton of photos of different turtles, but that's a post for another time.

We drove back towards the hotel, but decided to stop for ice cream. When I was a kid and we lived down here, we'd spend the whole day at the beach, out in the sun, in the water...and on the way home we'd get ice cream, and try to eat it before it melted all over us. The car windows were open because we didn't have A/C, and we'd get splattered by the droplets of melt-off as we rode and licked like mad.

This time, we ate inside the shop. It was Bird's first real cone, so of course I took pictures! This one was my favorite:

But I have many more, and...again...it's a post for another time.

Interspersed with all this hilarity are thoughts of my Uncle and cousins, of their loss and sorrow. I wish I could tell them what I know - that she made it through the gate and is raising hell up there, joking with Papa (my grandfather) and grinning like a fiend (she had a marvelous smile). I know she misses my Uncle - you could tell how much they loved each other when you looked at the pictures. Any time she was near him in a photo, she was grinning like a Cheshire Cat. I am worried about how he will miss her...and I hope that he'll look to the people still here, still loving him, when he feels low...

Meanwhile, life goes on, we honor the dead by living, and I intend to figure out what I need to do to smile like Aunt D did, love life like she did, and get on with it.