Morbidly Hilarious

Image found at teamsugar.com (Click to enlarge)

Today, my mom, my sisters, and I picked out a headstone and urn for Dad. (No, Dad is not dead yet. I’ll let you know, so sit down and be quiet.)

That was incredibly weird. I was prepared for weirdness.

What I was not prepared for, was how hilarious we found it.

Only us Davey girls could manage to laugh so hard in a place where laughter isn’t supposed to happen. We are either extremely joyful, or slightly morbid. Maybe, we’re just a little crazy. After all, it was I who asked if the head stones that cover the cremation plots were zombie-proof, you know, just in case. Never in my life have I been so random. I have to give the guy credit – he totally rolled with it, and told us we’d made his day!

I assume it’s some sort of weird, grief-based defense mechanism that we all used together, just to get it done and avoid the “depths of despair.” That, however, is a boring explanation.

We had no end of questions and ideas for Tyler, the lovely gentleman who assisted us in our choices, and was able to help us figure out what we wanted in the way of a headstone. I can tell you that we’ve narrowed down the designs we think represent our Daddy & husband the most:

  • John Stockton’s jersey number.
  • An angry eagle, because happy ones are just not dignified.
  • A mountain, because MOUNTAIN.
  • Moses, of course.
  • Jesus, because duh!
  • A Bible.
  • A cross – hey, we gotta cover all the basics, you know.
  • A disc golf disc. He’s the champion, you know.

I’m sure we can cram all that into a 12″ x 20″ stone. No problem. Oh – and it’s going to be “Elite Green,” because green is Dad’s favorite color. And he’s elite. (Elite means “super-awesome and handsome,” you know.)

As for the epitaph, well, let’s just say there was way too much fun to have with that one. I won’t get into it here, because that will just ruin the surprise for those who will want to pay their respects after the fact. In all seriousness, we want it to represent everything about Dad – including his great appreciation for silliness and fun.

Tomorrow, we’ll be heading to a cemetery to pick out a plot for Dad, where he will save a spot next to him for Mom. I told her she can feel free to follow him in about a hundred years. Not before, though.

Us girls think they should get matching arrows, pointing toward each others’ stones that say “I’m with her/him.” Because that would be hilarious.

We also went to Michael’s to get a scrapbook and paper, and pretty silver pens for the guest book that will be out at the memorial service. Instead of a standard-issue one, we’re going to make one, and call it “Davey Family Fun Memorial Guest Book Thing.”

Okay, I’ll work on the title, but we wanted something really and truly ours. We’ll be putting a picture of Dad in the middle of each 12×12 page, then letting people sign it, yearbook style. It’s going to be really lovely, actually, with a theme running along the lines of “A Life Well-Lived” or “Man After God’s Own Heart”. Plus, it was an excuse to buy silver pens! Shiny!

It is because of my Dad, and his sense of humor that we can all laugh about this. Either that, or it’s just a lame defense mechanism. I prefer to think of it as a legacy of humor, even in the roughest, most confusing of times. The social worker told us we’d feel crazy, but not to worry – we’ll just be “normal-crazy” for awhile.

Either way, it was a lot more fun to participate in these decisions than I thought it would be.

I guess it’s better to be morbidly hilarious than depressed. At least today.

Grace & Peace,
Tiffany

Advertisements

10 thoughts on “Morbidly Hilarious

    • The feeling is mutual, my friend. I assure you. You should have heard the stuff I didn’t choose to share!

  1. Firstly, my thoughts are with you and your family. Secondly, I know that room probably doesn’t get enough laughter, so I am glad you brought a little. Thirdly, in the house behind the funeral home, in the backest bedroom (on the right looking at it from the street), on top of a royal blue suitcase is a white box with black tape that has your name and address on it and is full of scrapbooking stuff. If you want it, ask someone at the FH if you can go get it, or if one of the guys or my dad can.

    All my best,
    Leslie

  2. When my grandmother died, we found a picture that had been torn in half. But only the half with some dude no one in the family recognized. My first reaction was to say that I was really pissed that the picture was discovered after Gram had passed away, because now we’ll never be able to solve that particular mystery.

    I get the Zombie proof headstone thing.

    And technically, Bill Cosby gave you permission to laugh during this whole thing. And there’s no arguing with Dr. Huxtable.

    “Through humor, you can soften some of the worst blows that life delivers. And once you find laughter, no matter how painful your situation might be, you can survive it.”

    Love you sweet friend!

Comments are closed.