Whirlwind.

The past few days have been a whirlwind and it all began as I stood in the kitchen above the sink and claimed, “That’s it, he just died.”

As I walked away from the sink, Stevo rushed into the kitchen, stuck his hand down the drain, and pulled out Godfrey. That fish sure was a trooper.  Godfrey was one of the goldfish that had survived my 30^th birthday carnival. I mention that simply because a majority of the fish didn’t survive. In all truthfulness, I believe Godfrey and one other are the only fish still swimming from an original count of 30. 

In a rush to change his water, that had become a mucky yellow in what seemed like overnight, I was pouring him from one bowl into another. I am not sure what happened but as I went to pour Godfrey, rather than going into the bowl which was intended, he went down the drain. I think the trauma of that alone put me in a mental state of shock, where I didn’t even think to put my hand down the drain and save him. I suppose I figured with blades and whatever else may be down there, he was a goner. ALAS! Prince Stevo saves the day and luckily, the 10 second memory that goldfish have, he didn’t even remember the near death experience he had just underwent.

The next morning, I glanced in the mirror as I was getting ready for Mother’s Day, and Goose’s memorial service. I looked down on my ring finger of my right hand where her wedding ring sat. I dug through a box of jewelry trying to find something of hers that I could wear, placed her locket around my neck, and drove up to the cemetery.  Mom was meeting me there prior to the Mother’s Day brunch.  We were having a service with the entire family but wanted to have a moment to ourselves as immediate family.  Grandpa Doc had been buried since 1983 and to dig up a stone to place Goose inside would have cost thousands. Rather than breaking a piggy bank none of us had, we decided we would dig a hole next to the stone where her death date was freshly engraved, and place the tiny two inch- heart shaped box that was filled with some of her ashes. The small box read: Gloria Orpha Monroe/ Forever in our Hearts/ February 15, 1923- February 3, 2013. Sunk into a hole about six inches deep, I kissed the small box and covered it with dirt. As to not make our recent burial noticeable, we covered the stone with flowers, plants, and a card.  Goose loved cards.  While going through her apartment when we moved her to the assisted living, there had to have been cards dated back to 1930.  It didn’t matter who you were in her life, if you had given her a card, she had saved it. In addition, if she liked the front of the card you had given, she would tear it and reuse the card, that portion I blame on being a child of the depression.

I went over to the trunk of my car to get out my camera and capture a few pictures before heading over for brunch.

Jiminy Crickets! I had ever single lens I own, but no camera. Before causing an alarm to my mother (taking pictures was the ONE thing she really wanted on this day) I reached for my phone to text Stevo and ask if he would drive the 50 miles up just to bring me the camera. I knew it was a longshot, and a large favor to ask, but since he was on a role of being Prince Stevo (with saving Godfrey) I figure he would save the day yet again).  

We headed over to the brunch where we met the remainder of the extended family and enjoyed great Mexican food. And sure enough, Stevo entered to save the day with his delivery of the camera just in time for us to head over to the cemetery.  

Mom had purchased 15 monarch butterflies to do a release at the memorial. She, or rather I, read a few poems with tear-filled eyes, we said  The Lord’s Prayer, released butterflies, and ended with Doris Day’s hit, “A Bushel and a Peck.” The day was amazing and Goose would have loved everything down to the little gift bags filled with oatmeal pies and candy.