Thanksgiving hath come and gone. It was a bittersweet holiday this year. With the passing of my grandmother (my father's mother), Clara Elizabeth Monforton, her funeral took place the Saturday of Thanksgiving..... so turkey didn't taste as good.
For some, funerals are a source of closure. Sidenote-- there is no such thing as closure. This is fact. For me, funerals sadly remind me of how much I will miss the one that has passed on. My gram's funeral was no different. I cried the whole time. I cried for my dad. I cried for my aunts and uncles. I cried for my Pepe. Moreover, I cried because I don't get to see my gram anymore. Selfish, I know.
There was one beautiful thing about Saturday's service. At the end of the service, a beautiful ray of sunshine bled through the stain glass of St. Paul's. I know it was Gram. She was probably looking down from Heaven, laughing at all of us sobbing idiots and drinking a tall Manhattan (with 2 cherries).
Looking forward, its officially Christmas time. Holler bitches. I love me some Hollerdays. I already watched The Family Stone and have choreographed where Christmas lights will be going on our bushes out front.
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