Grief Counseling

First, a little background.

I’ve had my eye on this little jewel for a few months:

I’ve had my Suburban for nigh on 12 years.  She’s been a great friend and seen us through car seats, smashed juice boxes, many a family vacation, new puppies, elementary school carpools, teenage basketball teams, driver’s training, taking kids to college, and much much more.  Most of her exterior has been replaced at one time or another.  127,366 miles of togetherness.  We’re moving on.  It’s time she be retired. You know, gold watch, greener pastures, yada, yada.

So I’ve been using all of my best feminine wiles and a few less flattering ones (whining among them), but as yet there is no shiny white platinum (the platinum part costs extra!) Explorer in my garage.  Yet.

Well yesterday my dear, beloved 90-year old grandma entered the hospital and my mom called last night to give us an update.  I was not home so she got my hubby.  Apparently she also mentioned that she was considering purchasing the VERY SAME car as I’ve been wanting!  Well, Jeff knew that would not sit well with the wifey and that he’d be subjected to another round of ranting interspersed with begging, so he made her promise not to tell me.

Fast forward to today. 

I called to check on Grandma.  I could tell Mom was not at home so I asked her if she was at the hospital.

Mom:  Um. No.

Me: Oh, where are you then?

Mom:  [pregnant pause] I’m actually at the Ford Dealer.

Something in the way she said it made me know I was not going to like why she was at the Ford dealer…

Me:  YOU ARE NOT BUYING MY CAR!!!!

Mom:  Actually, I thought about it and if this one had leather seats…maybe.  But, no, I’m getting the Edge.

Me:  What COLOR?  Not white PLATINUM?????

Mom:  Well, yes.

OK, whatever.

My mom next calls my husband.  At work.  She doesn’t do that.  He excuses himself to take the call.

Mom:  The gig is up!

Jeff:  Oh.  I’m sooooo sorry.  Did she go peacefully?

On the other end, the response is silence broken up by periodic muffled sounds.  Jeff knows she must be too choked up to speak.  It’s to be expected.

Jeff launches into consolation mode, comforting my mom through the loss of her honored mother.  “…you know she lived a good, long life….”

Then this sound burst forth from the receiver in Jeff’s hand:

BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

At this point my mom manages this reverent redirection,

“Oh no!  The old bird is still with us!” *

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*Note:  I hasten to clarify that we appreciate a bit of wry humor in our family.  Grandma IS often described as a tough old bird by those who know and love her best.  She is a modern medical miracle of longevity despite every reason why her body should have shut down years ago.  She is going on sheer will.  We are truly grateful to still have her with us and yet will celebrate her full life when she decides to reunite with loved ones who have already travelled through the veil.  Just so you know.