Gauche

Okay, I did programs for Diz' funeral. Because I could, because it was a tiny thing I could give to someone who'd done so much for me and my daughters.

The funeral guy was impressed. Which is flattering, I suppose, but when he asked me if I had a card, my first thought was, 'How gauche is that?' My second thought, 'Not nearly as much as if you give him your card.'

Thing is, it's not that I would mind under other circumstances. But at the moment, I was choking back tears. I hadn't seen the obit, which was on a table with other stuff for the sake of remembrance: a golf card from the time he got a hole-in-one, a Gnome from his massive collection, photos and so on. The obituary had a note that memorial contributions to the Autism Coalition were appreciated.

Which was so perfect, so exactly what he would have wanted. I hadn't cried for Diz yet, but that opened it up.

It was good to see old friends and family, many of whom I hadn't seen since Diz' 50th Wedding Anniversary, which was six years ago, but it sucked to see them because of this.