Just Looking...

DH used to tell his family that he didn't want a visitation when he died. In one of his other "lives", he was a car salesman, and he said he got tired of people coming through the carlot saying that they were "just looking", and he thought that would be what they'd be doing at his visitation...just looking.

He came from a family of four sons, and he was the oldest. He probably ended up having the closest relationship with the third son, because that was the brother that was around through DH's "dark times", and did the most to support and encourage DH in his journey to what he wanted to become. He was the brother who, along with his wonderful wife, stayed with me at the hospital all night long until DH finally left us. He came back in all during the evening to check on me, and he and I laughed about the "just looking" remark. I told him that I had told DH a long time ago that I certainly was having a visitation because I had to give all his friends a chance to come by and tell me what a good old s*** he was.

I had originally planned to do only one visitation for two hours prior to the funeral service, and then have private graveside services. I thought about it all day and all night, and decided that what I needed to do was not necessarily what I wanted to do. I needed to have two visitation opportunities--one for two hours on the afternoon before his service, and again for about an hour or so before the service--so that's what I ended up doing, and DH would have been pleased. We did NOT let people look at him (except for immediate family), because he would have had a fit--they shaved off about half his hair and ALL of his mustache (I never knew him without his mustache). Almost four hundred people came by during the two days, and he would have been pleased...and yes, they all told me what a good old s*** he was!

DH went from being someone who abused prescription drugs and alcohol to being someone who sang in the church choir, coordinated a men's Bible study group, cooked for any church group that asked, and taught a Sunday School class at a drug treatment facility, and he never hesitated to tell people what he was and what he became through God's help. I miss him...