my name is trouble

I had a long, exhausting weekend, but I'm glad that I went to Texas. Aunt Becky was under the impression that six Wamplers piling out of a minivan looked either cultish or clownish, but I thought that it was quite nice - and in fact decided that the perfect 'destination wedding' would be for a group of people to drive around Iowa in a van, getting out in Dyersville to hold the ceremony at the Field of Dreams site. You could even have t-shirts printed up that said, 'Is this heaven? No, it's your marriage.' Isn't that wonderful?

I must say, though, that Uncle Hobert's funeral reminded me that I'm not so good at dealing with grief. I don't think that I've fully processed and reconciled Granddad's death, even though it was nearly seven years ago - and since he and Uncle Hobert were identical twins, yesterday's service was rather surreal. They were clearly different people, but twins are rather mystical beings, and to bury another body that looked rather similar to my grandfather's (particularly the hands, which for some reason really got to me) was quite strange.

Anyway, I'll bury all of that again, although the feelings come out at completely unexpected times, like when I see a strange rock that Granddad would have liked, or when someone eats some disgusting food combination out of a sense of thriftiness, or when someone writes their 'a' letters like a typewritten 'a' rather than a cursive 'a'. For now, though, it's time to put the feelings away so I can focus on my work.

One more thing, though - I knew that various churches have had schisms over strange things, but I had no idea that there was a huge schism that formed the Christian Church and the Church of Christ. What was the cause of this schism? One branch feels that musical instruments are the work of the devil, while the other feels that pianos and organs and things are fine for worship services. I must say that I side with the group in favor of instrumental music - Uncle Hobert had insisted that we sing nearly a dozen hymns during the service, and without the helpful guidance of a piano/organ, I don't think our collective singing quite met the guidance to make a joyful noise unto the Lord. However, there was some fervent evangelizing from the pulpit, even though I wasn't expecting a discussion of the instrumental/anti-instrumental schism in the midst of my uncle's funeral. To each their own - but if any of you are ever involved in planning my funeral, I would just as soon have a brief eulogy/prayer service, followed by some Bon Jovi ('Livin' on a Prayer' might be too ironic?), a reading from a Georgette Heyer romance novel, and an after-funeral dim sum lunch with a rousing game of 'Shrimp or Feet.' It might be hard to procure dim sum in Allerton, but I trust that you'll be sufficiently motivated to accommodate my dying wishes. You could alternatively play a similar game with casseroles - perhaps a game of 'Scalloped Potatoes or Scalloped Cabbage'? I remember how much I used to hate it that every single year at the community Thanksgiving, I would suspiciously eye a dish full of cheesy goodness, decide that it was scalloped potatoes, take it back to my table, and end up with a mouthful of scalloped cabbage instead. Ugh.

Okay, that's enough nonsense for one night, and I have a meeting at 7:30 tomorrow morning. May you all have lovely days - and happy birthday to my cousin Andrew! He now replaces Michael as the youngest Wampler driver in our family. Congratulations!