Omissions, blunders and bloopers

First, I must correct my directions I gave on the invite I sent out about Scott's Celebration on this Fri. Nov. 23rd.  I said that the Desert Ridge Stake Center was on the left side of Signal Butte.  It is not. The church will be on the RIGHT side of the street.  Thanks to a friend who caught the mistake.  Hopefully,  everyone has google or some GPS thing.  What ever did we do before those?  I guess there is always the good old roll down the window and ask someone for directions...nay, that is an ancient technique.

Second, I failed to mention in the invite that instead of flowers, perhaps you might consider becoming of friend of the Boy Scouts of America and donate to this organization that Scott held close to his heart.
He was their biggest cheerleader and could boast  (but never did) of helping many a boy reach Eagle by being relentless in his "motivation" (lectures) to them.

Third, I want to sincerely thank my Bishop for so many things but most recently for helping me out of an awkward situation.  You see, going back to church the first time alone after losing a spouse, is difficult to say the least.  The questions, the hugs, the looks of people not knowing what to say....all can be built up in one's mind before it even happens.  I knew it would not get any easier if I waited to go another week.  That would just procrastinate the agony.  I called a friend and convinced her that she needed a ride to church and that I was the only one who could do it.  I am duty driven and if I knew someone was counting on me to get them there, then I would see it done and could not back out.  Besides, it was the children's Primary Program, which I look forward to with great anticipation each year.  I did not want to miss that for it never disappoints.

So I walked in, sat with my friend on the first row and wished that the bright neon sign above my head that read "Grieving Widow" with an arrow pointing to me would stop flashing.  When the Bishop arose to conduct, he first gave some announcements and on top of his list was the reminder about Scott's funeral service  celebration on Friday.  I could feel all eyes upon me, burning in the back of my head.  Should I grab a tissue and wipe the corner of my eyes?  Should I turn around and wave and smile and say something like, "Ya'll come on over, ya hear!"  I did not know what was proper protocol at that moment, so I just sat there wishing that the focus would go somewhere else.  That is when the Bishop rescued me.

He proceeded to give an announcement about our ward "Christmas Hoe down" celebration coming soon.  Well, let us just say, he got a bit disoriented and made a comment in complete innocence that ultimately brought snickers from the congregation, then continued to roll on with full laughter when others caught on to what he  had said.   It was a larger than normal number in the congregation because so many had come to see their grandchildren and  family in the program and the giggles reflected that increase.  He had been a long time on the rode recently,  had not seen his family for weeks and returned to ward problems, such as a recent widow.  He was tired I am sure. That is one idea for a disclaimer.

Another idea has crossed my mind.  I think he wanted to help me from feeling inept in this new situation.  For no longer did I feel people cared or even noticed me.  They were too embarrassed for the Bishop or trying to catch their breath as they held their stomaches from aching.  I feel his faux pas was truly in the category of being charitable.  So, thank you Bishop for taking the heat off me.

It has been said that laughter is the best medicine.  I have felt better and will every time I think of that Sunday scenario. It will be a bright spot.  So do not consider it a blunder for I consider it a blessing in disguise.  My only regret, is that Scott was not there to laugh with me.