Funny Guy Friday… My last request(s)...

     Funny Guy Friday is written each week by my husband Mark.  So, I married a funny guy...
     I just got home from a funeral service for a colleague's young husband. He died unexpectedly in the middle of the night. He leaves behind his wife and his two young sons.
     His father-in-law spoke at the service, and he addressed his comments to his two grandsons. He spoke from the heart, and it was so very moving.
     I stood in the back hallway next to very good friend of mine, as it was standing room only. My friend was brought to tears. When a young lady handed him a tissue, he, of course, pretended not to cry. I, of course, chuckled at that.
     Guys pretend not to cry because they think their friends will tease them mercilessly if they show emotion. Who would do such a thing? I thought of that commercial that says… It's not tears; it is the awesomeness leaking out.
     As I drove home, I began to think about my own funeral.
     Let me state right here: I am not afraid of death. As I have explained to my kids... if I truly believe what I profess to believe, I know where I will be when that time comes. What is there to fear?
     No sir, I am not afraid of death.
     What I am afraid of is that nobody will come to my funeral. That I will be dead and it will just be Cheryl and the kids… and maybe not even Matthew if they schedule my funeral on a game day. I actually would encourage his absence if he were the starting second baseman. I mean, Wally Pipp missed a game because of a headache, and we all know how that turned out. Seriously though, wouldn't you think that Cheryl would have planned the service on an off-day.
     I began to wonder who might speak at my funeral. So, minutes after leaving the service, I decided to plan my own funeral.
     I called my friend… you remember my friend… he was the girlie-man that burst out in tears… like a little baby crying for his precious mommy. I advised him that if I die, I would like for him to be one of the speakers at my funeral.
     His reaction to my request was a bit off-putting: he was excited.
     I hope something happens to you soon, because I have some great material. I am a great pick to speak at your funeral. Plus, I will be funny. 
     I took this as a positive… now people will come to the funeral just to hear his jokes. Of course, I had to hide my own excitement… Just try not to cry, you big cry-baby-sissy! Awesomeness, my rear end!
     One more friend and then perhaps a family member would round out the list of speakers. My best friend from childhood, PJ, could be a good choice, but he really is a huge crier. I mean a cry-at -a-hallmark-commercial type crier. I don't think he could make it thirty seconds before breaking down in a puddle of goo. He does, however, have a brother who would have no problems.
     His brother is a former Secret Service agent, once stationed in New York City. Once, PJ and I went to visit him, and we arrived as he was returning from his late night shift. He informed us that their older brother Tim's grandfather-in-law, Gus, had died that day. We asked how he died, and he told us, Timmy killed him.
     What?
     Yeah. Timmy gave the surgeon permission to operate, and Gus died during the surgery… so… (and as he said this, he laid his service revolver on the breakfast table continuing... in essence… Timmy gave the doctor a gun and told him to go and kill Gus. Timmy feels terrible… Can you pass me the butter? 
     Now that guy will have no problem making it through a nice five-minute eulogy.
     I'm not sure which family member I want as my final speaker. I suppose it could be my brother Jeff, but he tends to be… um… critical. I can hear him now, Can you believe it... he got hit on the head with a baseball. Why wouldn't he just catch it. I mean I knew he couldn't throw very well, but I always thought he could catch. Geez, it hit him right in the head… just catch the thing and you wouldn't be dead.  
     Perhaps his wife Theresa could say a few words, but I would be afraid that she would make up some bad stuff. I have a theory that she over-exaggerates her dislike for me because she has always secretly liked me best.
     As for the music, I will leave that up to Cheryl's mother. She led the church folk group for years, and I would hazard a guess that she might enjoy picking out the music for my funeral.
     My final request for my funeral is that Cheryl wear black… for the rest of her life. What the heck, my nice Italian Aunt Mary did when her husband passed away.
     Cheryl's response to my final request… I don't look good in black. Maybe chocolate... or eggplant. 
     Those are not even colors... those are foods.
     How about teal? Teal is the universal color. Everyone looks pretty in teal. 
     You do understand that the love of your life will not be around to see you in these flattering teal outfits. 
     I'll never meet anybody else if I am stuck wearing black all the time. How about I wear black for the funeral... and then I change into a teal outfit for the repast. I promise to wait a month before dating. I'll still wear teal if you want. 
     Deal! 
     As I plan my funeral, I can't help but think about that grandfather talking to those two young boys. He told them that their father loved their mother... loved them... and that they should be proud to tell people that they were his sons. He told them that their father was a good and honest man. As far as I am concerned, that is the highest compliment you can give a person.
     I hope someone mentions it at my funeral.
     Hmm… Maybe I should write all of this stuff down somewhere.

On a serious note… Please keep our friend Tracey and her boys Daniel and Timothy in your prayers this week.  Thank you.