But all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity

I took a trip this week to say farewell to a good friend. Although it would be appropriate for me to write something serious and solemn about her, she would kick my rear for doing so.

Let me start by saying that I have never met someone before in my life that was both a joy and directly responsible for as many expenses and work for me as Barna. She had the COOLEST ideas for interior decorating, entertaining, cooking, and just living a great life. EVERY time H visited her, she came back with a list of projects for me to do. Barna, I love you, I can’t stand you. One time I volunteered to pay for a fully furnished and sparsely decorated apartment for her family to live in when my wife came to visit. I didn’t care what they did with the place the rest of the time, she just couldn’t decorate it and had to refer to it as “home” when H came around.

Our family got to spend a few days being part of her family as we remembered her and all the smiles she brought to our lives. Even after her death I could feel her reach as my wife pondered what Barna would do for a flower arrangement for the service.

We had a wonderful time with the family as they continued to accept us one of their own, just as they always have. We could not have asked for more loving friends to sit and cry and laugh about the fun times we have had and will continue to have together as she stays with us in spirit.

After the service, we said our goodbye’s and loaded up the family for the long journey home.

This being a rural community, I got the entertainment of rural radio on the way out of town. I am used to the standard Midwestern dialect being spoken on virtually every radio station in America (country music morning shows being the exception of course). However on the way out of town I had a treat. Apparently I came across one of those radio stations (normally residing on the AM side of the dial) where the “DJ” was also the weather man and the commercial guy. I came upon this station in the middle of the weather, and the segment went something like this:

“An own thirsty, spec thurdy pissin chantsuh thunnah sterms. Ewe got trens mission probems, ewe need ta bringer own ovir ta paw’s trens mission. Jiss caw 543-9045 fer diagnostics.”

Yes, he gave the phone number for “Diagnostics”. I could only imagine some of the phone calls that have ensued.

“Paw’s Trens Mission, Haw cen Ah Hep Ya?”
“Sumpn’s wrong with ma Truck”
“Well Hode da phone up ta tha injun ayund lemme hear it”
Pause
“Yep, it’s da trens mission. Bringer own in and al fixerup fer ya.”

I kind of wondered if they should do that for doctor’s offices too?

“Doctor Fred’s Office?”
“Yeah, I got some BAD gas.”
“Well hold the phone up to …” nevermind.

Goodbye GiGi, although we’re happy you are now home, you left a space in our heart that can’t be filled.