Well my lovelies, it’s been one heck of a year. I lost my dad, then my dog, and not to be outdone, my mother. Losing my dad was hard. His estate is still in play—not that he had much, but isn’t that always the case. Tomorrow, right after I push the button for my mother’s cremation, I meet with a realtor to list the home my father lived in.
My mom’s memorial service was held last evening, which seemed to me to be all kinds of backwards. But, I wasn’t given a say in when it was planned. It was a lovely service—one I’m sure she would have been happy with had she attended. Tomorrow, I will be the one to push the button for my mom, as I did for my dad; not to say goodbye, but to be there for her body’s last journey. It is important to me to show her that honor. My mother, being half Norwegian, also had a thing for Viking funerals (really), so this gift is even more apropos than it may otherwise appear.
So why the pink hat?
My mom was a flamboyant soul with many talents and many loves, among those loves was a passion for color. Color brought her joy. Color enhanced her life. Colorful describes her perfectly. I wore the same black dress for mom’s funeral as I did for my dad’s. It’s lovely, with pink flowers embroidered on sateen black with sweeping bright green stems. I painted my toenails vibrant pink, and used the same shade on all but two of my fingernails, which I painted the same verdant green as the green on my dress.
I went to three hat stores in two counties until I found the perfect iridescent pink derby hat. I’d already purchased a black and white hat that was lovely and would have been far more funeral appropriate, but I couldn’t help it, when I saw the lovely pink hat, I had to have it.
Some attendees raised a brow at the cotton-candy confection on my head. A few looked askance at my less than subtle display of nail color. Those who truly knew my mom’s soul smiled at me and grinned at the hat.
Mom would have loved it.
My dad was a country lawyer. My mom was a speech pathologist and special education administrator. They were both highly educated, multi-faceted people who loved life, people, and bad jokes. They were good parents. They were exceptional grandparents. Both laughed freely and often. Both took their work seriously. Neither took themselves seriously.
I will miss them both.
Both will live in my heart and in my children’s eyes.
My father was fond of saying: No One Gives You Tomorrow. He was right. That’s why I’m sporting a pink hat today, thankful that I’m here and that I have loved ones to hold.
or perhaps you’ll choose one like these