Last Rites

When my #2 daughter was about 10 years old a friend of our family asked her to babysit her parakeet, Tweedy, while she went to Europe.

A few days after the lady left, and while we were out, our cat, Fuzzy, got into the birdcage and a tragic event followed. That night, after dinner, our family of six said our goodbyes to Tweedy. It was a closed casket ceremony.

The next morning my Real Husband took the box containing what was left of Tweedy to work with him. He had a meeting with three people who would eventually become (all three of them) some of the finest theologians in the South.

When they finished their work my Real Husband produced the box and explained what happened. They took Tweedy to the beautiful garden behind the office where they buried him, said some words and sang a little song.

There are no circumstances under which I foresee myself going out in this much style.