Got your attention didn't I?
Well, it all started like this: I was picking Scooter up from preschool the other day. He attends a Catholic preschool so the church and school are connected. There are usually an abundance of parking spaces to choose from, but on that day, it was different.
The parking lot was filled, almost every space. While riding up and down the isles I finally noticed the orange flags on some of the cars which indicated there was a funeral. After a hectic search, I did find a place to park. As I sat in my minivan, I began to wonder about this sea of cars. There had to be over one hundred. Had someone important died?
Outside the church there was a lone bagpiper. This was a first for me, although some of the other parents waiting for their kids informed me that it wasn't out of the ordinary to see a bagpiper at a funeral. I shook my head politely, but silently remembered to myself that the last bagpiper I saw was marching in the Fourth of July Parade.
I wondered who all these people were who came to this funeral today? What part did they play in this person's life? Did they know him at all, or was it just his reputation that made them want to come and pay their respects.
I don't often think of death (aside from this past Monday when I hired a personal trainer to get me back on track for the New Year). It's not usually until I have a funeral to attend myself that I go into "what if" mode.
What if there was no tomorrow? Who would show up to my funeral? Aside from my immediate family and a few friends; it's really hard to say.
I'd imagine the girls from my critique group may make a stop. However, I would excuse those of them that may be promoting their books that day.
Most of the friends I've made blogging have indicated at one time or another that they live far from my Pennsylvania home. And since there is generally a few days gap separating my post, chances are none of them would notice I'm gone until Blogger shut down the account.
The folks from the 3 surrounding Dunkin Donuts should stop by, or at best, offer my family a lifetime membership in the Donut of the Month Club. Let's face it, due to my overwhelming addiction to coffee and muffins, I feel I am partly responsible for the BMW parked behind the D&D.
A few of my Avon customers may drop by that day. But then again, they could just be relieved that no one will be pestering them to buy another mascara for the rest of their lives.
My neighbors are truly a crap shoot. See, there are the neighbors that borrow sugar from you, and then there are the neighbors that just wave when you pass on by. There are the neighbors that go to your funeral. And then there are the neighbors that gather at the bus stop and talk about what a swell gal you were. And of course, let us not forget the neighbors that will continue to borrow sugar whether I'm alive or six feet under.
The girls and the one gentleman at my nail salon may definitely make an appearance. That is, as long as I don't pass on a Saturday. This is their busiest day. I would hope however that they give me a complimentary mani and pedi before I cross over. First impressions are everything, and I would like God to believe this Fashionista came prepared.
When it comes right down to it, I suppose it really doesn't matter who comes. It's not like I'll ever know. I have a big problem with a party being thrown in my honor; when I can't even be there to enjoy a cocktail.
Well, if you are one of those people who felt sad, overwhelmed or obligated to attend my big day; let me thank you a million times in advance. However, if you rather just talk about what a swell gal I was, that's OK too. My sugar bowl will always be full.