Filo drove me insane. Actually, he wasn't that bad. The seat cover I paid almost $80 for is a piece of shit. It was too big because it said to round up from the measurements, so it would not stay in place. If Filo was standing or sittting when Jeff stopped or turned, he and the cover would end up in the floor. We were going to stop and eat dinner at a Huddle House, but as we were walking away from the car Filo climbed up on the dash. I decided to just let Jeff go eat and I'd sit in the car. Well, he got pissy and drove out of there, slinging Filo and the cover around. At this point my blood pressure was through the roof.

While he ate Wendy's in the car, I tried to rearrange the cover. I left the door open, and Filo ran out. He was in a grassy area between the parking lot and the street. It freaked me out, but I was able to catch him. (Seeing any unrestrained animal near a street or highway just about gives me chest pains.) So, to calm myself down I had to partake in some, um, herbal medication. Yeah, that's it.

The mood was somber Tuesday morning, of course. I was awake way before anyone, except Tigger the cat. I went to look out the back door onto the patio, and he came out of hiding to see me. He'd been in hiding with all the commotion going on, then Filo coming in. I seem to have that affect on cats. They almost seek me out. I may see him once a year, but he knew or remembered me being a cat person.

Apparently wearing black to funerals is not a common thing for either this family, this church, or this religion. I'd forgotten that. So there were maybe 6 people wearing black, including me and Jeff. Aside from me, only one other female wore pants. I didn't feel weird about that, just weird in general.

As we were being seated, Jeff and his mom went to view Grandma's body. She saw me hesitate and said, "Come on, she looks pretty." I've never been comfortable doing that, and I didn't want to intrude. I remember 2 separate occasions where someone walked me up to a body because they knew I was uncomfortable and wanted to provide moral support, and assumed I really wanted to look. I think one was my mother, where I kind of did want to see her in person. Only it wasn't really in person. I see no need in this, for me anyway. I do not want to be embalmed, I do not want to be viewed while dead. (I'll have to make a will and make this clear to Jeff at some point.) I want to be cremated after any viable organs are removed for donation. My mother was embalmed, then cremated. Why? I guess for the wake. But I digress.

I was okay until I saw Jeff's mom's condition. As his sister said, she was "shaking like a leaf." Jeff's mom and 5 aunts performed some sort of last rite on Grandma, then an uncle, granddaughter, and nephew said some words. As Jeff and the people speaking broke down, I did too. Only for a minute or two. But I fought it hard, and that seemed to make it worse. I'm not one to cry in front of anyone, much less in public with that many people. I think Jeff was surprised when I nudged him to hand me his tissue.

I also felt like I had little right to be crying when I was just married into the family, even if it was almost 12 years ago. I did love Grandma, and I knew personally that all the nice things they were saying about her were true. The uncle said she loved him like he was her own son, and not just married to her daughter. I just, I can't explain it. I just didn't feel it was my place.

Anyway, after going in the procession to the cemetery, we returned to the church where they had fixed a big lunch. I felt strange there, too. I was only able to eat macaroni and cheese and a roll. I figured any vegetables or beans were flavored with meat, so I avoided them. I even avoided the cobbler on the dessert table after Jeff said the chicken tasted like ham and the beans were yuck. He didn't eat much of anything either. See, that's why I avoid that type of situation. I don't want to offend anyone by not eating anything or having to poll everyone for ingredients. And then a couple people assumed I was on some starvation diet.

So, we got home around 7:00 last night after another stressful 3 hour drive. You know, assholes going 90 mph in the rain, big trucks riding your ass even though you're not in the fast lane and still going 70 mph, Jeff trying not to nod off. At least there was no cat puke or hairballs to clean up when we got there. They may be saving them for this afternoon.