It seems that over the past few years I have entered a new chapter in my life where more of my older relatives are passing away. I attended the funeral for an aunt this morning. My mom said her mother always said, "Once you get to a certain age, the only time you see family is at funerals." Sad, but somewhat true.
My aunt's husband is still alive but frail. His nickname is Buck. When I was a kid and Buck came over to help dad with the roof, he threw candy down to us kids and made clucking noises as if we were little chickens gobbling up the candy. That's a sweet memory I'll never forget. We loved it.
One odd sight from today that relates somewhat to this entry title...as the prayers were concluded at the graveyard, we walked back to the car and noticed a tombstone decorated with an old fashioned car model and a six pack of beer. I'm not kidding. I'm not sure if the cans were drained or still had the beer inside. I heard the person was killed by a race car so that may explain the car model. And the beer? Thank God we all have a sense of humor.
I'm not sure what I'd like on my tombstone. I'm leaning towards a frozen, strawberry margarita, chips and salsa.