Bodacious BBQ. There is no discussion necessary.

Wednesday, October 5, 2016

Dallas, TX and San Angelo, TX

It’s about 6am Central Time and I am wondering around the Dallas airport looking for Pokémon on my Pokémon Go app. I have a 3-hour layover before I fly into San Angelo to meet my Mom. I actually slept on the flight from Los Angeles and am starting to calm down from the initial shock of my Grandmother’s death.

I find a breakfast sandwich and eat it without the bread. I also grab some coffee and find my way to my gate 30 minutes ahead of boarding. I decide to use my time to come up with a plan for keeping it together for the next few days. I recall reading about something called binaural beats a while back. Binaural beats are various tones produced electronically and are used for meditation. Meditation seems helpful to my current situation so I download a few apps to sample on the airplane. I also load up my purse up with Altoids (which, for some strange reason, have always kept me from crying), concealer and tissues. Eventually, I board a very small airplane and San Angelo-bound. 

Around 10am Central Time I am exiting the plane at the San Angelo airport. As I walk outside my Mom is literally the only car in the pick up area. We say our hellos and then she is all business. Planning a funeral is a lot of work and we have places to go. I am grateful that someone has a plan.

First stop is the funeral home. My Mom had called ahead to the Robert Massie Funeral Home and was assigned a funeral Director named James. We are quickly seated in his office and when he enters he looks nervous. I don't blame him, my Mom is armed with notebooks full of paperwork and an iPad. I toss three Altoids in my mouth andclench my jaw.

The conversation is professional and my whole role is to agree with everything my Mom says. It’s actually pretty easy and I am feeling glad that I came. The entire meeting lasts about an hour and a half. It could have been done in far less time, but we spent at least 45 minutes watching James stumble through their software interface and waiting for various webpages to load. Eventually we leave the Robert Massie Funeral Home with a plan and a very long to-do list.

Next stop is lunch. I am still very tired and my appetite is pretty off, but I think I can eat some barbecue. There are few famous restaurants here, but only one that has been around since my Mom's childhood. We head over to Bodacious BBQ; there is no discussion necessary. I order a quarter pound of brisket with some smoked cheese on the side. I eat my whole plate plus a few hand fulls of pickles and a diet coke. My Mom does not eat much, but I can understand why.

After lunch we start on our list. The first stop is the florist. My Mom has a specific vision involving Texas wildflowers and the florist easily complies. The spray is easy to pick out. Next we pick out boutonnieres for the pallbearers. I suggest that each pallbearer get a different wildflower and everyone agrees. Next we pick out an easel. My Mom very specifically wants 87 roses to represent each year of Mema’s life. She wants them to be all red, but the florist talks her into a mix of colors (later we will both agree with the florist).

Next stop is the cemetery. Our funeral director has called ahead but we still need to stop by to pay for the headstone and sign some paperwork. When we arrive the manager is just finishing up with another customer. We wait patiently for our turn. Eventually we are seated in a small office. 

The woman in charge seems inappropriately chipper to me. I frown as we run through a few contracts and then have a brief discussion about whether or not to order a burial vault. This is a concrete casing for the casket and, apparently, is not required in Texas. The cost is $900 and there is really no good reason to get one. The cemetery manager advises against it and we agree. The sun is starting to set and we do one quick lap around the cemetery to visit the graves of my great grandparents and grandfather.

Eventually we head back to the hotel. My Mom had already booked a room with a king bed for herself. I decide to book my own room to keep things simple. Once we are all settled, we gather in my Mom’s room to go through mountains of pictures and put together some albums to show at the viewing. I decide this is a good opportunity for pizza and call in an order to Cork and Pig. I leave my Mom with her photos while I pick up pizza and salad.

We spend the evening sorting through pictures and eating dinner on the floor. I am absolutely exhausted but I have decided that it is not appropriate to turn in before 10pm. I push through the next few hours and at 10pm on the dot I announce that I am going to sleep.

We make plans to meet at 9am in the lobby. We are not even halfway through our list.

The emotional brain

Tuesday, October 4, 2016

Los Angeles, CA

I received a text earlier today from my Mom letting me know that Mema has finally passed away. She had been struggling with multiple heart issues for the past few months and died peacefully in her sleep the night before.

Currently I am driving home from work and call my Mom to check in.

I have been prepared for this day for many years, but the second I hear my Mom’s voice, tears flood out of my eyes. I’m always surprised how the intellectual brain and the emotional brain can be so out of sync. In the wake of this rush of emotion, I try my best to focus on logistics.

My Mom is currently by herself in Abilene. The plan is to gather Mema’s few personal items and drive over to San Angelo to make arrangements for her funeral and burial. Mema is from San Angelo and has specific instructions regarding her services.  

I ask multiple times when Dad and my brother are coming up to help her and she explains that they are both busy and will not be coming up until the weekend. I confirm one more time that my Mom will be handling all of this alone and then ask if she needs help. The answer is a weak no and I commit to flying to San Angelo right away.

It’s about 6pm currently and I am able to find a flight that leaves LA at 1am and lands in San Angelo at 10am tomorrow morning. I know this seems dramatic, but I can’t let my Mom do this alone. Also, I shell out the extra money to fly first class. I am not a total martyr.

I spend the next few hours packing, showering and letting my boss know what’s going on. I drive to LAX, park in Lot C and make my way to my gate. I am intermittently crying, but am also keeping it together enough to not cause a scene.

I board first and settle in for the 4-hour flight to Dallas. After a few glasses of wine, I drift off to sleep. Ah man, this is going to be rough.

Goodbye Florida.

Wednesday, September 21st 2016

Destin, FL and Los Angeles, CA

It’s around 9am CST and I waking up after an amazing night’s sleep. I still have sand in my bed, but I am so well rested that I no longer care. We have to leave in the next hour, so I quickly get dressed and pack up my bags. It is our last day and there is no coffee in the kitchen. It’s okay though, I remain grateful for past coffee.   

Eventually we begin to load up the truck. We literally have an entire luggage cart full of stuff (as it turns out, old people need a lot of stuff!). After we are all packed up, we make a coffee stop at McDonalds. We all chat happily on the way back to my Grandmother’s room at her assisted living facility. My Dad has left a large time buffer to hang out at Grandmother’s home and chat with all of her friends. As it turns out, she has a lot of friends! After about an hour of chatting with almost everyone in the building, it’s time for us to head out. We say our goodbyes and are off to the airport.

The drive to the Pensacola airport takes longer than expected, but we still arrive with plenty of time to spare. I say goodbye to Dad who will be driving back to Austin solo. I have about 2 hours to kill and spend my time playing plants vs zombies.

The flight home is uneventful and before I know it I am back home in LA.