Pizza in a Slow Cooker . . . Melting pot of thoughts, ideas, and stories of family, love and throwing everything in but the kitchen sink.

What's RESPECT Got To Do With It?


  I do not understand peoples morbid need to see dead corpses, much less photograph them.  This has nothing to do with "closure" or religion, so don't hate on me.

     Still to this day I have vivid images of my Uncle Ted and Grandma Batten in their caskets.  It's bad enough I had to find my mother cold on our living room floor and watch my father take his last breath with hospice.  Neither were laid out for viewing, but had they been, I would not have to kneel at the side of a pine box to pay my respect.  I don't want to hear how peaceful they look or what a good make-up job they did on them.

    We have all been to too many funerals, I am sure.  But when a co-worker's daughter lays breathless and embalmed at the tender age of nine - it's not a peacefulness I feel.  Or when a woman puts a bullet in her brain and people comment on how well she was put back together - it's not a compliment that comes to mind.  I do not need those pictures burned into my memory.

     I guess I have Franks' dad to thank.  Being a Vietnam Vet, he probably had seen enough death up close and personal.  I can pay my respects my own way and remember their smiling faces full of life.


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