Shimmering Laughter

My nephew died of a heart attack at the young age of 32. I traveled from Berlin to attend his funeral; but how and why he died is not the topic of this blog. The topic comes from something my father inadvertently taught us, if you look for something positive, you will find it, no matter the occasion. It is this gift that creates the story surrounding the funeral.

Before leaving Germany, I carefully planned my wardrobe for the week. For the funeral, I had chosen to wear a black skirt, matching top and a black/white alternating color jacket. In my haste to pack, I left the jacket in Berlin; this realization occurred to me while hanging my garments in the hotel closet. Evaluating the clothing contents I packed for the trip, I determined none of the others were appropriate for a burial. My comfort zone for wearing the skirt and top without a jacket was well below average but I quickly came to terms with my wardrobe. When my sister told me family members were going to the mall for new outfits, I decided to go shopping with the group. While shopping, I stumbled across a very nice jacket on sale for a hundred dollars at Macy’s. The jacket was black and beige with silver threads throughout. I knew the jacket would complement my skirt and top; therefore, I purchased the jacket, took it back to the hotel room and hemmed the sleeves. As far as my outfit was concerned, I was ready for the day.

At the funeral, I sat with the ladies that carried the flowers from the church. This is where the story takes a turn in the bend. The young lady who sat next to me wore blue jeans with a matching jean vest. She sat close enough for her leg to brush against mine. After her leg brushed against me, we both realized that the silver threads in the jacket were not threads at all but actually glitter. As quickly as the girl brushed the glitter from her clothing, more would drop on. She was like a glitter magnet. I almost laughed watching the girl try putting space between us. The situation would have been embarrassing if it had not been so funny. During the service, my nieces began to cry. I made the mistake of going to comfort them; everyone within two feet of me received the pleasure of going home with a glitter souvenir.

After leaving the gravesite, two of my sisters and I returned to the hotel to change clothing. We stopped at the reception desk; while talking to the receptionist, I dropped my keys. When I bent over to pick the keys off the floor, one of my sisters began laughing. We looked at her wondering what was so funny. She said, look down. Being gullible, I made the mistake of looking down. When I did, both my sisters began to laugh. Every time I looked down or bent in any direction, a glitter shower rained down in front of the reception desk. The glitter would fall off the same way you would expect rain to fall during a downpour.

When finished changing, we went back to the house of my sister who had buried her son. Everyone was so sad, but when the three of us walked in the door and looked at them, we burst into laughter. Everyone was sitting around with glitter all over them, on their shoes and clothing, scattered across their faces and in their hair. I had worked magic, even in that sullen time everyone found a reason to laugh. Need I say, when I returned to Germany, I cleaned the jacket, hung it in the closet and haven’t worn it since?