Healing Through Humor

It is the saddest of days. What is left of my biological core family and those who are "core by reality" are gathered in a small room to say goodbye to Jon. As tough as this is I know it will not be real to me until I had actually see him. I quietly wait at the far end out of a need to brace myself. Finally I move to the side of the casket and look down. My hope that a mistake had been made and that it was another person found in his apartment is gone. He is wearing a suit and tie. He hated wearing clothes like that. I would have dressed him in his favorite old jeans and a sweatshirt or Tee shirt. On his feet would have been the very sneakers that tramped for miles on his endless photo quests. Merri had picked these clothes and since he would now spend eternity next to his mother I think she did him a favor to make sure he was wearing clothing that would have her vote of approval. I notice the tie. I lean down to look again. My brother is wearing a tie with the subtle pattern of horse's asses, tails swept to the side and no one had noticed but me. In that darkest of moments the room is suddenly filled with laughter. I know in my heart that Jon had really picked the tie.
Slogging, Blogging On,
Leslie