My great-aunt Carmen (my dad's aunt) died this last week, and her funeral was today. She was 91, and ready to go home after a long, full life. I'm grateful the funeral was on Saturday so I was able to go, rather than on a workday or after I left, and represent my 'chunk' of the family. It was also neat to finally get to meet her son and his wife (they live on the East Coast).
It was quite a treat being a part of the funeral procession--two cops on motorcycles escorting us, getting to drive through plenty of red lights and stop signs, all of us with lights on and hazard lights flashing. I got really tickled when the cop came to put the flag in my window that marks me as part of the procession, mentioned the headlights and hazards, then just leaned in and turned mine on for me, as if I didn't know how to drive my own car. *chortles* Exactly how young did I look to him?!?
Can't forget the fabulous food at the Trautmann's after the internment was over. Puerto Rican rice and beans, AHHH! =D It's been too long. And the fun of hearing those mixed English-Spanish conversations again. Oh yes, and Carmen's son Ray showed me an old photo that had my great-grandfather in it, and my grandfather as well, as a kid.