Too Fat for the Funeral Dress

This post could be sad - but I'm going for funny. 

My dad died 8 years ago.  That sucked. And the holidays are hard and maybe we've gotten used to his absence, but it's not easier.  "They" (whoever they are) say it gets easier with time.  They lie.  You just get used to the giant whole in your heart, in your family, at the dinner table. 

So anyways, I was getting ready for my company holiday party last weekend and trying on all the dressy dresses in my closet.  Which are few these days - we don't go anywhere fancy or dressy anymore.  The few dresses I do have are from weddings I've been to or been in.  I had about 3 dresses I was trying to decide between but none were doing it for me.  However, in the back of my closet, there was another dress.  One that's been in a dry cleaning bag for about 8 years.  I've moved it, in that dry cleaning bag, from house to house.  I've moved 6 times since I wore that dress.  And it's moved with me, always getting tucked back to it's rightful place in the back of the closet, not to be worn.  I never wanted to wear it again, but I couldn't get rid of it either. 

So this dress - it's the dress I wore to my dad's funeral.  When I got the call my dad had been in an accident, I flew home to Dallas from Atlanta not knowing I was coming home to be told he had died.  My family spared me traveling alone having been just told that, so they told me when I landed.  My brother in law Patrick told me when he picked me up at the airport in my brother Nick's car.  I'm still not sure why he was driving Nick's car.  I remember I punched and kicked the dashboard - sorry Nick.  He took me to my sister's and his house where I slept fitfully in my niece's bed hugging a picture of my niece and my dad that had been framed and on her dresser for while.  She still has that framed picture on her dresser and when I go to their house and see it, I think of that night.

The following days we dealt with all kinds of horrible logistical things you deal with with someone dies.  And for me that meant shopping for funeral clothes because I flew home not knowing I would be attending my dad's funeral.  I found a dress the perfect shade of  UPS-brown (he had worked at UPS for forever) and some cute chunky heels to match.  My sister and I got necklaces with ruby-colored stones because his favorite color was burgundy and his motorcycle's name was "Ruby".  I looked pretty good and felt confident about standing in front of a bajillion people to deliver my eulogy.  It was standing room only at the church, even when waiting for the service to start in the family room, you could hear the fullness.  I looked out the window and the parking lot was PACKED!  I started to get sooooo nervous.  I decided I should go to the restroom one last time, even though I didn't really need to go, before marching into the church.  So I snuck out into the hall and into the ladies' room.  As I'm in the stall, a voice comes from the next stall and says "cute shoes".  I knew that voice.  It was Amy, my best friend for so many years.  We busted out of the stalls and hugged and cried and laughed at the kismet.  She too lived in Atlanta and flew in for this.  I hadn't seen her yet and it seemed like divine intervention was at work telling us both to go to the restroom at that exact moment, even though I didn't need to go and she had to make her way through a sea of people, so Amy could provide a little levity and tell me my shoes were cute and I looked good.  I'll always remember that. 

My dress looks like this, but with short sleeves and a sash belt,

so not really like this, but you get the idea

 

 

Back to present day and getting ready for my holiday party.  I decided enough was enough.  That dress was just a dress and it didn't hold any power.  It was a cute dress and it was OK to wear it again...and what better time to wear than for a happy, fun party rather than a sad event.  So I mustered up my courage and I didn't cry.  Not even a little.  I was excited.   I was going to wear this dress and maybe even carry a little of my dad with me that night to the party.  He always loved a party. 

And then it didn't fit.  I even had Jade help me try to zip it, but nope.  Turns outs falling in love, getting married and having 2 kids made me fat.  OK, not fat.  But fatter than I was when I wore this dress 8 years ago.  Dammit.  Sorry dad - no party for you. 

I'll guess I'll start working out in attempt to squeeze back into that damn dress.  I hate working out.  And I'm lazy.  I'm mostly happy with my body.  I mean, I'd like to lose a little (who wouldn't) but otherwise OK with how things have settled after babies.  But now this damn dress won't fit and because of my dad loving to go to parties, I need to wear it again. 

I'm also going to be adding Grapefruit essential oil to my water because research shows it's a natural appetite suppressant and I need to stop eating half pans of peppermint oil-infused rice crispy treats for dinner.  Even though that's like eating cereal for dinner and they are delicious. 

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DISCLAIMER: This page promotes ONLY Young Living brand essential oils. I am not a doctor and I am not diagnosing, recommending treatment or offering cures for ailments or illnesses. These are my personal experiences in using Young Living Essential Oils with my family. YLEO are pure, therapeutic grade oils and the only oils I would use in the ways that I discuss.