Things have been a bit 'dark' around these parts. We've been to 6 funerals in about 2 months. 4 were older relatives/friends of the family that had lived long, happy lives. But the last 2 have been family friends that have passed too soon (in their late 60s.) Here's to hoping we can hang up the black suit and black coats for a while.
As we were leaving funeral #6 this past Friday night, I was walking down the front steps and totally bit it. Like Jack Tripper prat fall style down the front steps. My immediate reaction was to look around and make sure no one saw me. The street was pretty desolate, save for my husband by my side.* After he picked me up off the ground, he threw in a "Don't be afraid to hold the hand rail." Nice. The fall actually got me out of going to a funeral service the next morning for my great-uncle so there's that positive spin, I guess.
I hobbled my crippled ass to the car, all the while feeling my foot swell over my shoe. By the time we got home, I couldn't shove my fat little foot back in my shoe and the purply bruise was forming. And I couldn't put any pressure on it. Good times.
The next morning it was still pretty bad so we made a trip to to the ER. Luckily it is just badly sprained and not broken. This was actually my first time in the ER and the first time dealing with a potential break. I kind of pride myself on never having broken a bone. Ligaments are another story but so far I am sticking to my claim to fame. No breaks.
After paying my hefty ER fee (thanks for nothin' Blue Cross) I opted for the crutches. Not really because I actually planned on using them but if I'm dropping $80 then I'm getting some kind of parting gift. And I took the socks too. I love those little grippy nubbies on the bottom.
Then when you thought it couldn't get more death-y around here, we turn on the radio and hear the news about Whits. Really universe, not enough doom and gloom to go around, you had to go and take her too!** Now I must go watch skinny a Jennifer Hudson pay tribute to our fallen diva.
* Fast forward a couple hours to a text message from my sister-in-law (also in attendance at the funeral): "Rumor has it you fell down the front steps?!? Please confirm." F-my life.
** I did learn a great deal about my husband's love for Whitney. I think he cried a little when we heard the news. You should ask him about "The Greatest Love of All." He gets emotional discussing how it is one of the best ballads out there and how Miss Whits had the voice of an angel. It's moving. I think we know what will be blasting at his funeral (not to be morbid or anything.)
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