HOW TO TELL IF YOU'RE A HORRIBLE PERSON

I am a horrible person.

In the middle of the funeral for my beautiful grandmother, I got the giggles.

The guy giving a speech wiped his nose....but he didn't just wipe it. He went in there like a roto rooter. TWICE. After the first time, I was a little stunned, but the second time he stopped his sentence to SNAKE IT OUT, I couldn't control the giggle.

Also, I wanted to remember a few things that happened during the service, so I took out a pen and starting taking notes. That solidified it. I AM A HORRIBLE PERSON.

But Life happens, and death happens...and the moments that happen in the middle of it all can be very funny.

1. During one of the speeches about my grandmother, someone mentioned that she used to work at a department store, but she was very poor, so she didn't have the money to buy the dresses in the girls' department for her two daughters. So she would examine a dress, and then go home and cut the pattern from memory, and make the same dresses for her girls out of flour sacks. My grandma was a selfless, kind, amazing woman, who could also sew.

What kind of story will someone tell at my funeral?

"Michelle was so obsessed with herself that she jotted down notes for possible future jokes at her Grandmother's funeral." How touching.

2. Since I live in a different state now, I have only seen my grandmother a couple times since August (when she was healthy and vibrant and hilarious as always.) I saw her around Christmas, and then a couple weeks ago. Both times she was in the hospital, struggling with a mysterious group of symptoms that the doctors couldn't figure out for five months (HOW ABOUT WE TEST FOR CANCER before it takes over her entire body YOU JACKHOLES!??!?!) Anyway, I was trying to cheer her up and make her laugh when I saw her this last time.

"Okay Grandma....we've got to quit meeting like this. The last two times I've seen you, you've been in the hospital, in these ugly gowns. So next time I see you, you better be wearing a dress."

YEAH. I said that.

Well...she was wearing a dress....a beautiful white dress that she had made herself (I guess it was technically "funeral/temple clothing" because she was Mormon).

I AM A HORRIBLE PERSON.

3. The people of my grandmother's church offered to make a dinner for the family, which was very nice. It gave us a chance to decompress after the long day of crying. And it gave us a chance to discover a beautiful tradition of the Mormon Church:

FUNERAL POTATOES. (there was a picture of these in the hallway of the church, with the following description):

"Made by angels and kissed by God himself, Funeral Potatoes are sent straight from Heaven for every post-funeral meal. Built with Cheese, potatoes, cheese, potatoes, cheese, cheese, cheese, and topped with cornflakes ("angel crunchies"), God sends them to remind of us of the delicate balance of life; we are encouraged to enjoy the artery-blocking power of the ingredients and feel the comfort it provides during our grief, but warned not to forget where we came from and where we will go if we eat too much."

I ATE TOO MUCH. Because I'll probably never get the chance to eat Funeral Potatoes again, and I'm writing this, because although I may seem like a horrible person, it's the only way I know how to say:

I love you Grandma. And I will remember you in your cute dresses, full of life and energy...laughing with us and making us laugh with your offbeat sense of humor. Quietly observing and unconditionally loving all of us, despite our flaws. Choosing to give us your unsolicited opinions rarely, but knowing when we needed to hear them. ALWAYS remembering our birthdays, and making goodie bags for Christmas. I am going to miss the fudge, the can of tasteless Mormon shredded chicken, the amazing funeral potatoes, and most of all your beautiful spirit.

The next time I see you, I'll be wearing a dress too.