Gail: Part 1

Paul’s funeral was Saturday morning in Mayville, ND. The little Lutheran church there (one of three churches on the way into Mayville) was 135 years old. It is quite beautiful. The altar and centerpiece (I’m lacking church terminology here) were gorgeous. Of course, you could tell that the original builders didn’t have much foresight, given that the stairways was tiny (they certainly were in better shape than those of us 135 years later) and the ceilings were quite low.

But the beautiful church capped a very nice little funeral. The most emotional part for me was when one of his daughter’s read a little note that her brother had recently written about going for walks with his father. As a child he held his father’s hand and felt reassured. Time separated them and made walks infrequent, but that reassurance never left him. It was quite powerful.

After the service, we went down for a nice lunch of three bean hotdish and scalloped potatoes and ham. Yum.

Then we went upstairs to admire the church in closer detail. That was when we looked at some of the flowers and plants sent from friends and family. Have lost both Mom and Dad in little over three years, I’m well aware of what a pain the flowers can be. We ended up donating most of the flowers to the nursing home after both funerals. Several people sent us plants instead of flowers. I like this much better. Flowers are temporary, but a good plant can last and it can serve as a little reminder of the loved one. However, if you are like me, and you don’t consistently water things, unless we received a cactus (which would have been fine by me), the plant’s chances of survival aren’t good. Overall, I think it is a beautiful gesture by family and friends, but it is just another thing the family has to deal with when there are much more pressing things to attend to.

We mentioned this to Gail, Kristie’s mother, and she thought it was a fine idea to go with a plant instead of flowers. But, if you know Gail, she has a way of doing things rather uniquely. This was no different.

As we walked to the front of the church, we all noted a rather large plant. It was so large in fact that it resembled a small tree of some sort. Want to guess who it was from?

Yep, Gail!

Since there are four children in her family, she figured she would spend $20 per child on the plant. Who ever heard of sending an $80 plant? Gail. That’s who!!!!

As Kristie said, most people would have sent smaller flowers – maybe four sets (one from each child). But no!

Gail called up and had an $80 plant delivered.

We had a good giggle over the size of the thing. Which suddenly made me feel like I was in the rain forest rather than the church’s sanctuary.
When it came time to leave, the family didn’t really have a need for the plant, so we offered to take it. Casey sheepishly grabbed it by its large metal base and carried it over to us.

“Bring in the Napalm,” I said. “It looks like he is in the jungles of Vietnam.”

At this Casey peered through the thick branches.

I couldn’t help but think, Tyger! Tyger! Burning bright in the forests of thine night.

Of course, Gail didn’t see what the big deal was. But we all had a great giggle out of it. Especially trying to fit the whole plant in the back of our Trailblazer. It’s a good thing we got rid of Kristie’s Seabring!

It was kind of a hazard on the way home, though, for I couldn’t see much out of the rear window.

It was so large, in fact, that Casey actually named it: Bulla, Bulla.

"Feed me, Seymour!!"




Trust me. If you know Gail at all, you are nodding along in agreement.

Kristie once wrote a phenomenal (and hilarious) essay on Gail for a college class. I’m going to transfer that to my blog (or her’s) on day. It will have you in tears.

I have always kept a list of Gail’s unique way of viewing the world in the back of my mind. I think it would make a hell of a book.

Here is another of my favorite Gail moments –

Buddy’s ‘final’ resting place. Buddy was Gail’s dog. He was ancient. I’m talking like 15 years old. Since Gail sold her home and moved in with Allen, she had to get rid o the dog (Allen didn’t want him for reasons I won’t get into). So Buddy came to live with us. But he was old. His legs didn’t work right. He had trouble going ot the bathroom. He was missing most of his teeth. Oh yeah, did I mention he was completely blind? Oh yeah, he navigated his way by trail and error – he would walk in circles that eventually grew larger and larger. When something got in his way, he just banged his head against it and tried to navigate around it.

Ultimately, though, he had to be put down. This was not easy for Gail. Although, Buddy was more of a nuisance for her too. She just didn’t really want to admit that. I think since Allen didn’t want her to have him, suddenly Buddy became more about a battle of wills than doing the right thing for the dog. He was, in a way, the last bit of Gail’s former home and life. And now, because of Allen, she had to get rid of it. So who could blame her for not really wanting to?

Finally, Gail consented and had the dog put down. But, and here comes that famous phrase, “you know Gail,” she couldn’t just have the vet clinic in GF bury him or cremate him. It seems they save all the dead animals until the end of the week and burn them together (I’m not kidding). They couldn’t assure Gail that she would get the correct ashes. At this point I’m thinking, why tell her that? Who cares? Empty out an ashtray of a car and hand it to her!

Instead, Gail picked the body up and kept it, sealed with duct tape, and adorned with the largest Christmas bow I have ever seen (don’t ask me why), in her car. Now most people would keep it in the trunk. But apparently she had too much stuff in there. So (insert our famous phrase here) she kept it in the backseat!!! I’m not kidding.

Now he is at rest – still in the container with the duct tape and bow – out at Allen’s farm.