![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Feb. 1st, 2004
A couple days ago, my mother listens to her answering machine. There's the cute little voice of my niece on it -- it's a new answering machine and the speaker isn't very good, and Winter uses this cute voice on answering machines which is a little too quiet sometimes.
It says something like, "Hi, Yaya, I love you, I went into the hospital because I ate penguins."
Mom isn't entirely sure that she's heard all the words exactly right, so she calls back. Yeah, she didn't hear the last word exactly right. . .
So, my niece Winter Rose is six. Her father gave her three pennies -- not three penguins, three PENNIES -- for doing such a good job on her chores. She couldn't reach her piggy bank, so naturally she kept them in her mouth.
When she finally gets to the piggy bank, she puts the penny in it.
She thinks about this, and explains that she put the three pennies in her mouth, and she put the one penny into the piggy bank, and Tony stays home with Drew as And takes Winter off the ER. They X-ray her stomach, and do, in fact, find a small metal disk in her stomach.
This is apparently not actually all that uncommon, and they suggest that they put Winter on clear liquids and come back the next day for another X-ray. They do, and discover TWO little metal disks!
(My sister's comment about this was, "Wow! A 100% return on investment in just one day! We should feed Winter pennies more often!")
Anyway, my sister had been keeping up with this story, and phoned And up the next day to ask how Winter was:
Leila: So, how's Winter doing?
And: No change.
It says something like, "Hi, Yaya, I love you, I went into the hospital because I ate penguins."
Mom isn't entirely sure that she's heard all the words exactly right, so she calls back. Yeah, she didn't hear the last word exactly right. . .
So, my niece Winter Rose is six. Her father gave her three pennies -- not three penguins, three PENNIES -- for doing such a good job on her chores. She couldn't reach her piggy bank, so naturally she kept them in her mouth.
When she finally gets to the piggy bank, she puts the penny in it.
She thinks about this, and explains that she put the three pennies in her mouth, and she put the one penny into the piggy bank, and Tony stays home with Drew as And takes Winter off the ER. They X-ray her stomach, and do, in fact, find a small metal disk in her stomach.
This is apparently not actually all that uncommon, and they suggest that they put Winter on clear liquids and come back the next day for another X-ray. They do, and discover TWO little metal disks!
(My sister's comment about this was, "Wow! A 100% return on investment in just one day! We should feed Winter pennies more often!")
Anyway, my sister had been keeping up with this story, and phoned And up the next day to ask how Winter was:
Leila: So, how's Winter doing?
And: No change.
I did a lesson on Bal Tashchit, the Jewish law of "do not waste/destroy." Went pretty well. Then I went off to the funeral home. We cut it close -- they actually held the ceremony for five minutes while I changed into the suit I brought -- Uncle Mel's old tux that I'd gotten from Debbie.
I'm glad I wore it -- it really made just about everybody happy. Everybody said it was like having Mel back for a few minutes for Debbie's funeral. I look a lot like my Uncle Mel, which should worry me, I suppose, because my Uncle Mel looked just like Elmer Fudd, only with bigger ears. He was well known for being one of the most loving souls there ever was -- he genuinely liked people, and people responded to that, and everybody genuinely liked him. Debbie had something similar, but different.
There's a Jewish tradition that the family symbolically sprinkles a little dirt on the coffin, maybe a trowel or so, to show that we're burying our dead. But, it's our family tradition to bury people ourselves. I don't quite remember how it started, except that we've got a lot of contractors and physical laborers in the family, and I guess it's just, if you've got a big pile of dirt, and a hole, and there are shovels lying around, we just don't THINK to use a trowel. I mean, there are shovels.
I dunno. I always get the impression that the gravediggers are slightly nonplussed to see these people in suits grabbing shovels and burying someone. Especially since we really work about as fast, if not faster, than they do. And we don't mess up our suits. I mean, I did have Mom hold the suit jacket. And Mel's mink-collar coat. But, yeah.
The mink-collar coat is REALLY warm. It was pretty cold at the graveside, although not as cold as it has been recently. My grandmother, who doesn't like the cold, said, "That's it, when I die, I'm dying in the SUMMER." We all laughed, and appreciated her thoughtfulness.
The graveside was in Sharon. The funeral home was in Brookline. It's over half an hour from Brookline to Sharon if you USE the highways, which they don't like to do with a funeral procession. Yet, in the entire 45-minute drive, we didn't lose anyone. I know, Lis and I were the last car in the convoy. And we got there no problem.
After the burial, Jackie and David had us all back to their house in Marblehead for food. Lis and I left, found the highway, and headed back. We got back at 2:20. As we were approaching, I asked Lis, "Hey, what happens if we get there before anybody else?"
We did, of course. Lis's comment was that she is punctual and has a sense of direction, which is two unfair advantages over the rest of my family.
So we drove down to downtown Marblehead and got some pizza, and drove back. We managed to kill about half an hour. So we headed back, and got in right in the middle of people showing up.
We met some of Debbie's godchildren, who we really liked. Lis is generally somwhere between "introverted" and "anti-social". The family generally knows this, and doesn't mind if she hides in a back room with a book every once in a while, when she gets people'd-out. She likes my family, but finds them . . . overwhelming might be a polite way to put it. But she actually ended up socializing for basically the entire time.
Then we went home. And watched "Titus" on video, and I'm now livejournaling and occasionally checking the superbowl scores.
I'm glad I wore it -- it really made just about everybody happy. Everybody said it was like having Mel back for a few minutes for Debbie's funeral. I look a lot like my Uncle Mel, which should worry me, I suppose, because my Uncle Mel looked just like Elmer Fudd, only with bigger ears. He was well known for being one of the most loving souls there ever was -- he genuinely liked people, and people responded to that, and everybody genuinely liked him. Debbie had something similar, but different.
There's a Jewish tradition that the family symbolically sprinkles a little dirt on the coffin, maybe a trowel or so, to show that we're burying our dead. But, it's our family tradition to bury people ourselves. I don't quite remember how it started, except that we've got a lot of contractors and physical laborers in the family, and I guess it's just, if you've got a big pile of dirt, and a hole, and there are shovels lying around, we just don't THINK to use a trowel. I mean, there are shovels.
I dunno. I always get the impression that the gravediggers are slightly nonplussed to see these people in suits grabbing shovels and burying someone. Especially since we really work about as fast, if not faster, than they do. And we don't mess up our suits. I mean, I did have Mom hold the suit jacket. And Mel's mink-collar coat. But, yeah.
The mink-collar coat is REALLY warm. It was pretty cold at the graveside, although not as cold as it has been recently. My grandmother, who doesn't like the cold, said, "That's it, when I die, I'm dying in the SUMMER." We all laughed, and appreciated her thoughtfulness.
The graveside was in Sharon. The funeral home was in Brookline. It's over half an hour from Brookline to Sharon if you USE the highways, which they don't like to do with a funeral procession. Yet, in the entire 45-minute drive, we didn't lose anyone. I know, Lis and I were the last car in the convoy. And we got there no problem.
After the burial, Jackie and David had us all back to their house in Marblehead for food. Lis and I left, found the highway, and headed back. We got back at 2:20. As we were approaching, I asked Lis, "Hey, what happens if we get there before anybody else?"
We did, of course. Lis's comment was that she is punctual and has a sense of direction, which is two unfair advantages over the rest of my family.
So we drove down to downtown Marblehead and got some pizza, and drove back. We managed to kill about half an hour. So we headed back, and got in right in the middle of people showing up.
We met some of Debbie's godchildren, who we really liked. Lis is generally somwhere between "introverted" and "anti-social". The family generally knows this, and doesn't mind if she hides in a back room with a book every once in a while, when she gets people'd-out. She likes my family, but finds them . . . overwhelming might be a polite way to put it. But she actually ended up socializing for basically the entire time.
Then we went home. And watched "Titus" on video, and I'm now livejournaling and occasionally checking the superbowl scores.