Most of you know by now that my father died in October. We had his memorial service last weekend, so I’ve been traveling across the country in addition to Thanksgiving and Christmas Holidays. My cards aren’t done. No shopping has taken place with the exception of the small bit of retail therapy where I bought a pair of zebra print heels that raised the eyebrows of DH and Bugs, but put a much needed smile on my own face.
In the midst of all this, I can say several other things. My fathers estate is a mess. His will is missing along with his Dyson Vacuum and a loan payment coupon book.
My mother used to say to me when I was growing up, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.” For right now, this is good advice.
But I will also say, “It ain’t over ’till the fat lady sings.”