...and I remember it well. It was my dad's funeral and I wanted to smack the preacher. He was chosen by my step-mother, because well, frankly I didn't know any. Until my uncle mentioned another man who precided over my mom's funeral years before and actually grew up with my dad. This other man did speak at the end of my dad's funeral and was great.
OK, back to the first preacher. He kept pronouncing our last name wrong. And when I was up at the podium to deliver my dad's eulogy, I began to tear up. Well, he started preaching and saying our name wrong. I looked back at him, and told him so. People that knew me were about to laugh, and my step mother said my name, because they knew I was about ready to do Smack Down in the chapel--OK--and this was before I started my Spiritual Walk...
Later on that evening, a friend of my dad's stopped by the house. He said he'd arrived late to the funeral, but got there in enough time for me to wanna beat up the preacher.....yea, OK..well, maybe...
On this day, in 2010, I still basked in the Texas Rangers win to go into the World Series, then off to a bible study, and then my writers' group, while on my way home the rain poured, thunder rumbled and lightening cracked the sky. I was invited to a Halloween Party tonight--yet just feelin' all into it.
I also watched the Iowa Hawkeyes
lose to the Wisconsin Badgers I didn't like the losing part, yet I liked watching the Hawks play. Because on this 9th anniversary of my dad's death, I knew he watched it with me.
Just like always.