Dear Darling Ones,

Tuesday we celebrated the life of my Aunt Sherry, who died much too young (67) down in Florida where she retired with my Uncle Wayne.

I attended the celebration at the Savage American Legion along with a lot of my St. Martin family, what felt like half of Savage, and, to my delight, a few bowlers from the < a href="https://iwilldare.com/category/work/bowling/">Dan Patch Lanes days.

When Nancy, who bowled the Tuesday Womens’ league along with my Aunt Sherry and sisters, walked in, Sister #4 started hitting me in the should, “Look Nancy Westphal is here!” Then she turned to our mom and did the same thing.

“I’m acting like a celebrity just walked in,” Sister #4 said.
“She is Hot Randy’s mom,” I said.

When I die if I have a funeral/celebration of life that’s half as filled and lively as Aunt Sherry’s, I’ll be pretty damn pleased in the afterlife I’m not sure I believe in.

I’m so happy I went. There was never any doubt in my mind I wouldn’t go, which was also nice. It was the first time I’ve attended a social gathering in public outside my house since the stroke. Also the first social gathering in my janky-ass wheelchair.

This means it was also the first time I’ve seen so much of my family since the stroke. Boy, were they happy to see me, and I was thrilled to see them. What made me happiest of all, on a sorrow-filled day, is that I had zero anxiety about going or seeing any of them in what I often call my “new body and new brain.” Besides being infinitely hilarious, my St. Martin family makes me feel comfortable.

Toward the end of the afternoon I got a chance to talk to my cousin, Chad. He’s Sister #2’s age, about 50, and also uses a wheelchair. Fun Fact: between both sides of the family Sister #2 has five cousins that are her age. 1974/early-75 was a fertile period for the Chromeys and St. Martins.

“Nice chair,” I said to Chad, who has muscular dystrophy.

Even though my mom had told me Chad had muscular dystrophy about a hundred times over the years, I always assumed she meant multiple sclerosis. Everything I know about MD I learned as a child from the Jerry Lewis telethon and I decided it was a disease that affected children. Chad went to college on a baseball scholarship and as far as I know didn’t develop MD until his 30s or 40s.

“Wheelchair’s suck,” Chad said.
“But your’s is so nice,” I said. His had a joystick and glowing buttons and was the Maserati of wheelchairs as far as I’m concerned. Mine has uneven wheels and is the 1999 Chevy S10 of wheelchairs.

We spent a little time swapping stories about how much it sucks to be disabled. That was kida awesome finding someone in my own family who can relate. As they were kicking us out, yes we shut the funeral down, I put my number in his phone. Hopefully there’s more commiseration in the future.

Also, one more thing. My Cousin Jason & Uncle Wayne let me take home the enormous peace lily (pictured above). I’ve named her Sherry, obvs, and she joins the Sadness Garden with Muriel, a pathos I’ve had since Grammu died in 2003 and Eleanor IV, a peace lily that is named after my Grandma Chromey and a peace lily I had from her funeral in 1990 that Paco & Madison murdered in 2006. I’ve replaced her a few times.

Peace,
Jodi