Hola Chicas,
Quick check-in before I run out to lunch with Dr. Daddy.
Read On!>>>
When I’m not rocking dramatic-ass coats, this Zara leather situation is my absolute go-to. It’s probably the chicest and most cost-effective one I’ve owned… ever. And I own like 6. It ain’t warm tho, so to keep from catching flumonia, I drape myself in a chunky knit scarf and layer all the way the hell up. #GmaWouldBeProud
In other news– dry, chunky twist-outs. I’d blown my hair out again after the funeral (needed a break from detangling) and decided to do a chunky flat-twist out on my dry hair. I created 6 flat-twists using Creme of Nature’s Argan Oil leave-in spray and setting mousse. No water. Flexis on the ends, rolled up to my chin. I was light-handed and because both products dry quickly, it set in a few hours. The result? Fluffy, shiny, defined, build-up free gloriousness. I pineappled for this day two joint, and for the first time in days, I’m smiling, genuinely (and not the fake kind). Mostly because Dr. Daddy is coming to take me out again for a much needed distraction. #StillInTheLou
Yesterday, my dad commissioned me with the task of Gma’s headstone inscription. This ‘quick’ process turned into 3 hours of toiling. I was limited to 4 lines of 15 characters each (not including her name and dates), super-strict language regulations (it’s a national cemetery for vets and their spouses- they can veto any and all requested language), no punctuation options, and the stress of trying to slap a couple of labels on Gma’s whole entire life. #MissionImpossible
Also, nearly every identical headstone has the same identical inscription– ‘beloved husband and father’ or ‘devoted wife and mother’. And I. could. not. Because–
“It isn’t the date on either end that counts, but how they used their dash for that dash between the dates represents all the time they spent alive on earth and now only those who loved them know what that little line is worth.” -unknown
RIGHT?! Her dash was so significant that I knew I could never capture it in 60 characters. The task simultaneously felt very important (this is her eternal memorial!) and very much a non-factor (cause she lives in me, anyway). So after many iterations and several consultations with the brain trust (Syl, Perry and Dr. Daddy), I came up with–
The Greatest
Wife Mom Gma
of all time
She lives in us
Finally armed with good enough language, we still had to get it past the gob’ment– who require that the requested inscription be submitted via phone. So yeah, that awkward moment when I confidently and articulately read ‘the greatest’ and had to continue, louder, over cemetery dude’s chuckles and other sounds of caught-off-guardedness. After politely requesting he read it back to me, it was approved (’cause I’m a boss) and Gma was certainly up there tickled. #GOAT #SheLivesInMe
Later Gators,
Nik
p.s. while looking for pics for Gma’s funeral last week, I ran across these gems, they’re blurry, ’cause 2001, but I’m sure the gist of the shenanigans is apparent. #MyHomie
