2.) Tell us about a time you got to ride in a limousine.
When you’re seven and your Dad dies you will have nothing to wear to the funeral. You will have worn your best church dress to the prayer service the night before and anyone who knows anything about fashion knows that you CANNOT wear the same red dress to your father’s funeral that you wore to his PRAYER SERVICE! And since your mother does not think about these things ahead of time and plan accordingly, you will settle for last year’s church dress that has been washed one too many times and feels a little uncomfortable.
You will forget all about your fashion conundrum when you catch wind that a LIMO will be picking you up at church and will escort you to the funeral. A LIMO! Suddenly this whole funeral doesn’t seem like such a bad idea after all if you get to ride to the church in your very first limousine!
But when the limo ride comes you will note it is not as long as you had imagined. You will shrug your shoulders and snag a seat next to a door because you know limos have electric window openers and if there’s one thing you’ll look forward to on the day of your Dad’s funeral, it’s watching a window move up and down and up and down with nothing more than a push of a button. Except that the electric windows on this short limo seem to have broken because they stop moving up and down altogether.
Your mother will look at you with relief that you are able to find delight in windows and limousines on the day you will be burying your Dad, but she will wish you could be just a little less squirmy since this is still not such a great day for her. She will distract you from the broken magic windows by telling you to take a look out the back window and you will see all of the cars following. She will want you to see that tribute to your Dad. You will count the six police cars escorting the nearly two mile long procession. The cars seem to go on forever, but you will lead the pack in your limousine!
You will feel glad to have your sisters and brothers, your cousins and school friends all together in once place. You will tiptoe around gravestones and you will hope to stick around long enough to watch that big box get buried because then you will know for sure he’s not coming out of it. Your Mom will hound you to get back in the limo and you can’t help but feel like she particularly does not want to stick around to watch the big box get buried.
So you climb back into the limo wearing last year’s church dress that has been washed one too many times and feels a little uncomfortable and you will be annoyed.
Because if you’re going to be escorted to and from your Dad’s funeral in a limo when you’re seven year’s old, it better darn well be an extra long stretch limo with working electric windows…otherwise the whole thing just doesn’t seem worth it all.
When You’re Seven And Your Dad Dies: The Funeral
When You’re Seven And Your Dad Dies: Extended Family
When You’re Seven And Your Dad Dies: Second Grade
When You’re Seven And Your Dad Dies: The Manger
When You’re Seven And Your Dad Dies: Metamorphosis