WRONG FUNERAL

THIS WAS TOO GOOD NOT TO PASS ALONG.  Many years ago my grandmother, Georgia Holcomb, (96) passed away and  six of her grandsons carried the coffin including myself. Grandma Holcomb always had a tinkle in her eye and ready comment for all occasions. As we were carrying her from the church one of the grandsons said, "I'll bet Grandma will have something to say about this being carried by six young men." None of us could keep a straight face and people probably wondered about us smiling and chuckling as we carried Grandma to her grave.   THE WRONG FUNERAL God doesn't make mistakes. He puts us where we are to be. They say there are no mistakes, for everything there is a purpose.  Makes you think... Enjoy! We'll never know where our paths will take us! **AN ABSOLUTE MUST READ**  This is really beautiful.. . Consumed by my loss, I didn't notice the hardness of the pew where I sat. I was at the funeral of my dearest friend - my mother. She finally had lost her long battle with cancer. The hurt was so intense; I found it hard to breathe at times. Always supportive, Mother clapped loudest at my school plays, held box of tissues while listening to my first heartbreak, comforted me at my father's death, encouraged me in college, and prayed for me my entire life.  When mother's illness was diagnosed, my sister had a new baby and my brother had recently married his childhood sweetheart, so it fell on me, the 27-year-old middle child without entanglements, to take care of her.  I counted it an honor.  'What now, Lord?'  I asked sitting in church. My life stretched out before me as an empty abyss. My brother sat stoically with his face toward the cross while clutching his wife's hand.  My sister sat slumped against her husband's shoulder, his arms around her as she cradled their child...  All so deeply grieving, no one noticed I sat alone. My place had been with our mother, preparing her meals, helping her walk, taking her to the doctor, seeing to her medication, reading the Bible together.   Now she was with the Lord.  My work was finished, and I was alone.  I heard a door open and slam shut at the back of the church.  Quick footsteps hurried along the carpeted floor.... An exasperated young man looked around briefly and then sat next to me.  He folded his hands and placed them on his lap. His eyes were brimming with tears.  He began to sniffle. 'I'm late,' he explained, though no explanation was necessary.  After several eulogies, he leaned over and commented, 'Why do they keep calling Mary by the name of ' Margaret?''  'Because, that was her name, Margaret.  Never Mary, no one called her 'Mary,'' I whispered.  I wondered why this person couldn't have sat on the other side of the church.  He interrupted my grieving with his tears and fidgeting. Who was this stranger anyway? 'No, that isn't correct,' he insisted, as several people glanced over at us whispering, 'Her name is Mary, Mary Peters.'  'That isn't who this is.'  'Isn't this the Lutheran church?'  'No, the Lutheran church is across the street.'  'Oh.'  'I believe you're at the wrong funeral, Sir.'  The solemnest of the occasion mixed with the realization of the man's mistake bubbled up inside me and came out as laughter.  I cupped my hands over my face, hoping it would be interpreted as sobs. The creaking pew gave me away.  Sharp looks from other mourners only made the situation seem more hilarious.  I peeked at the bewildered, misguided man seated beside me.  He was laughing; too, as he glanced around, deciding it was too late for an uneventful exit.  I imagined Mother laughing.  At the final 'Amen,' we darted out a door and into the parking lot.  'I do believe we'll be the talk of the town,' he smiled.  He said his name was Rick and since he had missed his aunt's funeral, asked me out for a cup of coffee. That afternoon began a lifelong journey for me with this man who attended the wrong funeral, but was in the right place.  A year after our meeting, we were married at a country church where he was the assistant pastor.  This time we both arrived at the same church, right on time... In my time of sorrow, God gave me laughter.  In place of loneliness, God gave me love.   This past June, we celebrated our twenty-second wedding anniversary.  Whenever anyone asks us how we met, Rick tells them, 'Her mother and my Aunt Mary introduced us, and it's truly a match made in heaven.' If you Love God, and are not ashamed of all the marvelous things he has done for you, send this on to others. REMEMBER, God doesn't make mistakes. He puts us where we are to be.

SEDONA, AZ

Last week Connie and I spent a R & R up at Sedona, AZ. The area is full of wonderful photo shoots of red rock formations. They change hourly with the sun and shadows. We had a restful week and one day we took a train ride on the Verde Canyon RR. It leaves from Clarksdale and goes to Perkinsville where the engine goes to a different siding and takes you back. Takes about four hours and very restful. About 40 miles and the scenery is desert, dry and wonderful. Serve food and drinks and open cars for taking photos. We have gone on it three times and never get tired of the trip. One could go on different times of the year and see a different scene each time. Saw two bald eagles along a river. Will try next time to take the caboose as it holds only six people . Great Day.

SEDONA, AZ

CHAPEL OF THE HOLY CROSS

BEAUTIFUL RED ROCKS

PIONEER CEMETERY IN SEDONA

CULTURAL SHOCK

Cultural Shock-Lights

by R. Aubrey LaFoy

Abraham Lincoln is one of my favorite US presidents.  “Honest” 

Abe is refreshing in this age.  There is the story that he won the nickname of “Honest Abe” when he walked two miles to repay a customer six cents because he had made an error in giving the man his change.  Mr. Lincoln was known for his wit and humor and thankfully many of his stories were recorded so you and I can read them.  We have great photos of Abe and he is probably the first president to really be photographed.  Washington, Jefferson, Adams and Madison left only artists painting of themselves so we are not exactly sure of their looks.   The one painting of Lincoln that sticks in my mind is him laying in front of a burning fireplace and reading.  Even at an early age that picture of him left a great impression on me as I thought to myself, “That must have been trying with only the glow of the fire light to read.”  Abe must have had determination and desire to read. He must have had good eyesight otherwise reading would have been impossible.

I grew up in a small town and we had electricity and indoor plumbing.  The house my family lived in was built prior to World War I.  The electrical wiring, light fixtures and wall outlets were very primitive by today’s standards.  Most of the rooms had a single light cord hanging from the ceiling from the middle of the room.  Many had a pull switch that string or cord was attached which allowed one to pull to turn the light off or on.  If there was a wall light switch it had two small buttons, one black the other white that by pushing activated the light.

In our living room we had a large black wooden lamp with a huge silk shade.  The lamp was plugged into the wall socket which normally had a plug screwed into it to accommodate the two prongs on the lamp card.  By today’s standards those early wall sockets were not children friendly and more than one kid was really shocked putting their wet finger into the small hole.  If multiple cords were needed one could obtain piggyback sockets to take care of lamps and radios.

 The one thing I remember very well was a unique feature we had in the wall of the kitchen and that was a wall fixture that had a red light that would go on when turning the switch for the basement lights.   It was a feature that I wish our basement lights had today.  Few people had outside lights in town, as there were streetlights in every block.

One fall I was invited to spend a weekend with a classmate of mine who lived in the country.  The farm he lived on was about six miles from town so we had to ride the school bus on Friday.  I took some extra clothes in a paper sack and was very unprepared for that weekend.  As I look back it was a real cultural shock for a town boy to go visit and stay at a farm. 

The first impression was the school bus we rode in which rattled and shook traveling those bumpy dirt and gravel roads.  After a long time we finally arrived at my classmate’s farm and had to walk about ¼ of a mile to the farmhouse and buildings.  The boy’s mother and father greeted us and after we had changed from our school clothes to the grubbies we went out to do the chores.  I learned how to fed the pigs, horses and cows and although it was fun I didn’t feel real comfortable around those big cows and horses.  My buddy assured me they were okay but then again he had been around them all his life whereas I only saw them at a distance or in the movies. When the chores were done we went back into the house and by then his father had finished milking the cows.  We washed up outside after pumping water from the well.  That was fun pulling the pump handle up and down but I suppose it wasn’t as much fun when one had to do that all the time.  The food was great and the other members of the family made me feel right at home.  It was beginning to get darker and darker and my first though was, “Why doesn’t somebody turn on the lights?’  Then I realized there was no electricity.  Soon a kerosene lamp was taken from the wall bracket, lit and we had light.  It was not all that bright and lefts lots of shadows in the corners of the kitchen.  Several other kerosene lamps were lit and one especially was very bright.  It was called a mantle lamp, which, I was informed, took special care and different fuel.  We adjourned to the dining room and played some checkers. A bit later my buddy and I trooped out to the barn, as he wanted to visit his calf and see if it was okay.  He lit a lantern and we walked to the barn.  Looking around their farm and also peering into the distance it was dark.  I mean dark, as the only light was the lantern and some lamps on in the house.  No streetlight or bright lights in houses and I finally spotted a feeble light at a farm one mile away and that was some comfort.  I missed the ever-present street light in front of our house and along the streets.  There were always some lights from houses in our block and downtown.

We left the barn and walked back to the house.  It was sure quiet, as the only noises were our footsteps and some farm livestock moving around.  Living in town was sure different as there we always had some noises like traffic, trains, church clock striking every ½ hour and people.  There sure was a lot of silence and it seemed to close in on me, the town kid. While we were outside my buddy suggested that I use the outdoor toilet as that would be my last chance.  Seemed strange but I found out later the wisdom of his suggestion.

The family was gathered in the kitchen where a great smell of freshly popped popcorn was awaiting us.  Bowls were passed out and by the light of a kerosene lamp we played a hot game of checkers.  Several of the other members of the family were reading and watching our game.  Later that evening I was given a paper to read and I thought to myself that if I had to do much reading by that lamp my eyes would really get tired. Evening closed down early and we were hustled off to bed in an upstairs bedroom. We carried a lamp up the stairs and into the bedroom and proceeded to change into bedclothes.  As we were getting into the bed I was shown the chamber pot under the bed and informed of the function of that strange looking pot. My buddy’s earlier advice became very clear.  Much different than our indoor toilet facility at home and made me appreciate our house in town a great deal more.

After the lamp was blown out in the bedroom it was really dark and quiet.  We talked for a long time and finally fell asleep.  I had no more gone to sleep than we were awakened, it was morning and the sun was just coming up.  Jumping out of bed was a shock as the floor was cold and no time was lost in downing our clothing.  Down the steps we went to be greeted by the aroma of pancakes and fried eggs.  That was a great breakfast.  Chores had to be done so out we went to the barn and repeated the same duties as the night before.                  Saturday meant that additional jobs had to be done so it wasn’t until after lunch that we could really play.  We had a great time playing in the grove building forts and playing Robin Hood.  Later that day we rode the Indian pony bareback and I fell off several times. Didn’t make me very fond of horses the rest of my life. 

The weekend on that farm was a real eye opener for me.  Today we label it “cultural shock” but that experience gave me a better understanding of living on a farm.  During World War II while stationed in India and China we seldom had electricity in our living quarters so we had to rely on artificial lighting such as candles and lamps.  Many of my army buddies remarked many times that it was just like their lighting back home on the farm.  They didn’t feel the lack of electricity and lights nearly as bad as the town boy.  It is only when you don’t have something as simple a good lighting that it is missed.

Doctors remarks-Laugh

EMBARRASSING MEDICAL EXAMS                            1. A man comes into the ER and yells . . .' My wife's going to have her baby in the cab.'  I grabbed my stuff, rushed out to the cab, lifted the lady's dress and began to take off her underwear.       Suddenly I noticed that there were several cabs - - - and I was in the wrong one.    Submitted by Dr. Mark MacDonald , San Francisco   2... At the beginning of my shift I placed a stethoscope on an elderly and slightly deaf female patient's anterior chest wall.   'Big breaths,'. . .  I instructed. 'Yes, they used to be,'. . . Replied the patient..    Submitted by Dr. Richard Byrnes , Seattle , WA   3. One day I had to be the bearer of bad news when I told a wife that her husband had died of a massive myocardial infarct.   Not more than five minutes later, I heard her Reporting to the rest of the family that he had Died of a 'massive internal fart.'   Submitted by Dr. Susan Steinberg   4. During a patient's two week follow-up appointment with his cardiologist, he informed me, his doctor, that he was having trouble with One of his medications. ˜Which one?'. .. . I asked. 'The patch... The Nurse told me to put on a new one every six hours and now I'm running out of places to put it!' I had him quickly undress and discovered what I hoped I wouldn't see. Yes, the man had over fifty patches on his body!   Now, the instructions include removal of the old patch before applying a new one.   Submitted by Dr. Rebecca St. Clair , Norfolk , VA   5. While acquainting myself with a new elderly patient, I asked, 'How long have you been bedridden?' After a look of complete confusion she answered .... . . ' Why, not for about twenty years - when my husband was alive.'   Submitted by Dr. Steven Swanson-  Corvallis , OR   6. I was performing rounds at the hospital one morning and while checking up on a man I asked . . .' So how's your breakfast this morning?' ˜It's very good except for the Kentucky Jelly. I can't seem to get used to the taste. Bob replied. I then asked to see the jelly and Bob produced A foil packet labeled 'KY Jelly.'   Submitted by Dr. Leonard Kransdorf , Detroit ,   7. A nurse was on duty in the Emergency Room when a young woman with purple hair styled Into a punk rocker Mohawk, sporting  a variety of tattoos, and wearing strange clothing, Entered . . . It  was quickly determined that the patient had acute appendicitis, so she was Scheduled for immediate surgery.. When she was completely disrobed on the operating Table, the staff noticed that her pubic hair had been dyed green and above it there was a Tattoo that read . . .' Keep off the grass.'   Once the surgery was completed, the surgeon wrote a short note on the patient's dressing, Which said 'Sorry . . . Had to  mow the lawn.'   Submitted by RN no name,                                 AND FINALLY!! ! . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . ..      8. As a new, young MD doing his residency in OB.  I was quite embarrassed when performing female pelvic exams... To cover my embarrassment I had unconsciously formed a habit of whistling softly.   The middle-aged lady upon whom I was performing this exam suddenly burst out laughing And further embarrassing me. I looked up from my work and sheepishly said.  . . ' I'm sorry. Was I tickling you?' She replied with tears running down her cheeks from laughing so hard . . ..   ' No doctor  but the song you were whistling was . . . ' I wish I was an Oscar Meyer Wiener .'      Dr. Wouldn't submit his name....

1 MORE     Baby's First Doctor Visit This made me laugh out loud. I hope it will give you a smile! A woman and a baby were in the doctor's examining room, waiting for the doctor to come in for the baby's first exam. The doctor arrived, and examined the baby, checked his weight, and being a little concerned, asked if the baby was breast-fed or bottle-fed. 'Breast-fed,' she replied.. 'Well, strip down to your waist,' the doctor ordered.   She did He pinched her nipples, pressed, kneaded, and rubbed both breasts for a while in a very professional and detailed examination.   Motioning to her to get dressed, the doctor said, 'No wonder this baby is underweight. You don't have any milk.' I know,' she said, 'I'm his Grandma, But I'm glad I came.

 

 

TAXI

SAYING GOODBYE TO MOTHER

You Don't Have To Own A Cat To Appreciate This One! You don't even have to like 'em!

We were dressed, and ready to go out for the New Years Eve Party We turned on a night light, turned the answering machine on, covered our pet parakeet, and put the cat in the backyard.

We phoned the local cab company and requested a taxi. The taxi arrived and we opened the front door to leave the house.

As we walked out the door, the cat we had put out in the yard, scoots back into the house. We didn't want the cat shut in the house. because she always tries to eat the bird.

 My wife goes on out to the taxi, while I went back inside to get the cat. The cat runs upstairs, with me in hot pursuit. Waiting in the cab, my wife doesn't want the driver to know that the house will be empty for the night.. So, she explains to the taxi driver that I will be out soon, 'He's just going upstairs to say Goodbye to my mother.'

A few minutes later, I get into the cab. 'Sorry I took so long,' I said, as we drove away. 'That stupid bitch was hiding under the bed. I had to poke her ass with a coat hanger to get her to come out! She tried to take off, so I grabbed her by the neck Then, I had to wrap her in a blanket to keep her from scratching me. But it worked! I hauled her fat ass downstairs and threw her out into the back yard!'

The cab driver hit a parked car.

Len Lafoy

Cousin who lives in Lloyd Minister, SK, Canada-  Had a great WWII war record in army in Holland