My Uncle Archie passed away a month or so ago. I met him only once in my lifetime and I'm fairly certain he wouldn't have remembered it because he was slobbering drunk. This is not unusual in my life, trust me. This story taught me that apparently my natural father's family believes they should be cremated. I do not plan on being cremated. My philosophy is that we spend our whole life trying to do God's work and be good Christians to avoid burning in hell once we leave our life here. I do NOT plan on burning the temple God gave me to live in during my time on this Earth. But to each his own. I'm off on a tangent, sorry about that.....back to the story at hand.....
My step-mom came to Ken's game (Father was at work) last night and told me a little story.....
Archie's daughter, whom I have never met.....actually I didn't even know he had a daughter (how would I).....has spend much of her life in jail--since she was 12--according to MiMi. She decided she wanted Uncle Archie's ashes to take them to the family cemetery in Arkansas (Yes. Go ahead and laugh....ARKANSAS) to be scattered over his parents' graves but doesn't remember how to get there. I guess you forget those kinds of things when you're serving 8 to 10. Anyway, my Father offered to take her when he has a chance and somehow Uncle Archie ended up at father's house. In a box. Three weeks ago. He has been living in their bedroom--on the floor---in a box.
MiMi said she finally got tired of tripping over Archie so took him out to my father's shop, but he didn't like that at all, so Uncle Archie is now back in the bedroom floor. I hope and pray the next time MiMi trips over him he doesn't spill.
My sweet step-mom then said, "When we take Karen to Arkansas, do y'all wanna go with us so you can see the family cemetery?" My response wasn't well planned out. Who is prepared for these things??? "As much fun as it sounds to be crammed in the car next to the convict and the Box-O-Uncle-Archie, I better pass." Happy trails, folks.
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