I need to tell ya'll right off the bat - "I'm not planning on going anywhere for at least another 15-20 years, maybe longer". This morning though, as I perused the synopsis of high points from the recently croaked in today's paper, more formally known as the "Obituaries", it dawned on me I had some creative writing to do. A girl can never be too cautious I suppose. One of my bestest buddies, Peggy, has told me for years that I was delegated with the task of making sure her "final rundown" is befitting of her life. I have always considered that task as a privilege, but today, it hit me "Who the heck can I depend on to gather up all the high points (and low points) of my life and fluff them up to a sheer and total state of literary enthrallment? Certainly, not the Lil Momma. Certainly, not my Hubby. Certainly not my Family. Certainly NOT my ex-family, which is still like family. I fully understand that the aforementioned parties will all be floating around on Xanax, sobbing uncontrollably and lining up deviled eggs. I'm figuring, if I leave the high points here - in broad daylight for God and everybody to see, somebody will feel compelled to pass along what Bitsy feels needs to be noted.
"Bitsy" (yes, I want my obit to use my Grandma name. I figure if you don't like your God given name, everybody should have a chance to shed it when they become a Grandparent). If for legal purposes, someone feels the need to use my full name, I want them to use the whole thing, no partials, no short versions, the whole thing . . . . . I worked hard at being Carleen Odile #####, then even harder at being Carleen Odile #####-#####, and well I haven't done it as long but I'm going down kicking and screaming as Carleen Odile #####-#####-########, whether the ######## Family likes it or not. Somebody make a note of that, please.
First and foremost, this is something I really really insist on (I may even start looking for myself) I want an amazingly breathtakingly stop and pay compliments to her winged concrete angel over my "spot" I want her to have her head resting on her arm protecting me. I always thought these looked pretty cool. Seems to me if you have one of those on your "spot", you lived a good life.
I want to "ashified". For those of you that don't know what that means - think about it. I'm a firm believer in the old ashes to ashes, dust to dust thing. The Lil Momma, Precious and the Webbman can have half my ashes to do whatever they want with (there should be plenty to go around), if my Hubby is still kicking and he wants them, he can have a portion and the rest I want buried in Napolean by my Daddy, and I'd like a few sprinkled off the seawall in Cedar Point. I'd say put a portion of them by my Momma too, but since my Momma and my Daddy are buried in different cemeteries, it gets kind of complicated. Short version is my Grandpa (my Momma's Daddy) purchased burial plots for himself, my grandmother and my mother. He did NOT include the purchase of one for my Daddy. I think he may have rationalized the situation by thinking that since my Daddy was from Napolean and his family had a "family cemetery" that it was just OK for him to save the money and let Daddy fend for himself. Who knows? I quit trying to figure that one out a long time ago. For me, NO WAKE, NO FUNERAL SERVICE, NO bunch of people. Just pick me up from wherever I'm "ashified", find some containers you think Bitsy would like (personally, as much as I love Jiff peanut butter, I can't think of a better container, but PLEASE don't put me in there with the Jiff). The idea of being stuck on something for eternity kind of creeps me out.
OK, the rest of the obit can go something like this:
Bitsy attended Catholic School all her life. She was in the musical drama "Oklahoma" in 1972 at St. Stanislaus at which time she made her one and only singing debut as Aido Annie. From that point forward, Bitsy only sang to herself. Bitsy's sainted Mother passed away on Mardi Gras Day in her Senior Year of High School. Bitsy always noted that she was at the Royale Sonesta on a balcony on Mardi Gras night when she got the call to come home. Needless to say, Bitsy has a tough time with Mardi Gras and had alot of things she wished she had told her Momma. Anyhow, She dated the same good looking young man from 9th grade through her Senior year in college (although she enjoyed a number of other cute boyfriends from 8-9th grade, much to their Mother's chagrin). In Bitsy's Senior Year of College, at the University of Southwestern Louisiana, (now University of Louisiana at Lafayette) she was invited by a friend of her brother's to go listen to him play music at the Blackburn Coliseum. Said boyfriend of seven (7) years, went duck hunting one too many weekends. Blackburn Coliseum was the scene of the crime where she fell madly in love, broke up with said boyfriend of 7 years, crushed his heart (or so she believes), and moved back to the MS Gulf Coast to marry said musician. There was a degree from said University earned during this time period, one that Bitsy noted often "quite probably served no purpose". A few years later, Bitsy gave birth to the Lil Momma, adored her beautiful lil face and toes and hands from the minute she was born, and hung on her every word, where she would continue to hang had Bitsy not croaked. Twenty years of marriage and some poor, if not misunderstood decisions later, Bitsy was divorced. It should be noted that Bitsy always noted that it was a good run and she was glad she participated in it, although said musician may have another story. It should also be noted that Bitsy quite squarely laid blame for her label as divorce' on her brother for being friends with said ex-husband to begin with.
Bitsy often noted the many ways God blessed her. Bitsy married her "ex-bestfriend of thirty (30) year's" older brother after what was considered a proper number of years after "the divorce". For reasons unbeknownst to Bitsy, God decided to bring her someone else to love, and best of all, it was mutual (big butt and all-Bitsy's, not hubby's) and more than that, he was an amazing friend. Walter Francis (aka "Butch") somehow saw something in all of Bitsy's mess up's that was redeeming and for that she was forever thankful.
Bitsy noted that she had a number of good friends throughout her life and noted that there were only a few people that she really did not like and one of them predeceased her. She never questioned the justice in that. Bitsy also noted that her bestest friend and greatest pride was the Lil Momma, then bringing up the ranks there was her antagonizing "You're Adopted" Big Sister~Mary Ellen, Big Peg, Judy, Aunt Miche, Connie and her sister n law, Mary. She loved her sister n law, Candy allot. She adored her niece and godchild, Brianna Carol. She loved her ex Mother n Law, Granny, and missed her to the day she croaked (Bitsy, not Granny). She had alot of friends who she loved but the aforementioned were her die hards. She always said she wanted her obit to thank Big Herb Dubuisson, her big brother, Pat and Bill Lady for standing by her when she needed it.
During Bitsy's life, she participated in the following occupations/jobs: Legal Secretary, Secretary to Plant Manager, Word Processor, Bank Teller, Asst. Branch Manager, Branch Manager, Mortgage Servicing Manager, Admin. Asst., City Councilperson, Real Estate Agent, Consumer Loan Specialist, Chamber Director (which she openly noted was a nightmare), Flight Attendant, Sales Assistant, owner of Bippity Boppity Boo Boutique Mail. Bitsy noted that she was not particularly good at any of the preceding positions. She did note that the best job she ever had was Momma to the Lil Momma, and that she did a bang up job with that (depending on who you ask).
Finally, Bitsy knew beyond any doubt that her greatest joy was the Webbman. In fact, Carleen Odile Murphy-Moran-Turcotte made it clear, that this would be her epitaph:
"Bitsy"
Grandmom to the Webbman
02/1957 -
Again, I'm not planning on going anywhere, but just in case I do - I felt the need to throw out some pertinent facts. Consider them "thrown".
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