RIP, MIA

If I had to name a theme, I’d characterize the last 14 months as heartbreak and loss. I sure hope it ends soon.

Last weekend we memorialized my friend Mia, who died way too young unexpectedly–at age 42–from mistakes made during surgery. While I cried for all of us, I cried especially hard for my cousin Becky. She and Mia were next-door neighbors and best friends since childhood. Becky wept for an entire week. How she, or anyone, found the strength to eulogize Mia last weekend, I will never know. Again, it’s something I can never do because I totally lose it. But, I wanted to share some thoughts about Mia here.

Becky & Mia, BFFs.

Becky & Mia, BFFs.

Mia and her brother Chris (my cousin Jeff’s best childhood friend) were both adopted at a young age. Since I spent so much time at the family farm, they became my extended cousins. I remember as a child being so excited to meet Mia and Chris, because I was the only adopted child I knew. Although I never said it aloud, I always felt a special kinship with Mia and Chris. Adoptees carry the albatross of an inner monologue for which the rest of the world is simply unaware. We are always asking ourselves “Why?”

The lasting impression we all have of Mia is that of her smile. It would bathe the coldest, darkest room in the brightest of light. I loved her wit and sarcasm, and the way she and Becky–like true sisters–were always busting each other’s balls. It was always so much fun being with them.

Mia and Becky - smiles like sunbeams.

Mia and Becky – smiles like sunbeams.

In the photos Mia’s family shared of her during the service, there was only one where she wasn’t smiling. We learned that it was her photo from the orphanage in Korea. Later, at Mott’s Lounge, Becky told me how Mia always had problems with her one wrist. Finally, as an adult, Mia saw a doctor about it, who asked her, “Were you ever in an orphanage?” She confirmed it, surprised the doctor would know that. He told her it was common to see this wrist malfunction in children who stood hanging onto their cribs for hours on end in an orphanage. It’s no wonder that was the only photo where Mia wasn’t smiling. Becky wishes the doctor had never told Mia that, adding one more dark thread to her life’s tapestry.

Since Mia passed and was buried in Colorado, a tree was planted at the cemetery just down the road from my uncle’s farm. This is the same cemetery where my uncle, my adoptive dad, and my other relatives are buried.

The gravestone that took 10 months to get finished, all because I demanded there be a lower case "C" in McDonald and it fouled up their stonecutting logistics.

My dad’s gravestone that took 10 months to get finished, all because I demanded there be a lower case “c” in McDonald and it fouled up their stonecutting logistics. I’m still unhappy with the size of the “c.”

My cousin Jeff, his wife Janell and I made the mistake of standing together at the tree planting portion of the service. In retrospect, we should have realized this error in judgement. An elderly gentleman standing in front of us punctuated everything the pastor said with a resounding fart. I started giggling with my hand over my mouth, muffling the sound. My shoulders were shaking, and I hoped it would be mistaken for weeping. It was not. Knowing me all too well, Jeff glanced over at me, saw my shoulders shaking, and it was GAME OVER, MAN!

Jeff, Janell, and I briskly walked far away from within hearing distance, to find my father’s grave and not have our cackles overheard. We didn’t want to convey any irreverence to Mia, but truth be told, I could feel her standing with us, doubled over, laughing. Soon Becky and her husband Sean weren’t far behind us, in the same state. Whenever we all get together, we are groupthink reduced to the mindset of a 13-year-old boy. It feels good to return to that happy place, where we are all still untouched and not yet pummeled by life and heartbreaking loss. It just feels good.

 

Introducing My Newest Business Offering: Meme Editor

Yes, I am that jerk. Admittedly. The one who judges people by their spelling and grammar. Judgey Judgerson. The “Grammar Geek.” Let’s just get that out of the way. Just as musicians can listen to a symphony and that one wrong note jumps out at them, the same thing happens to me, even when I’m reading for pleasure, which I do often. I believe the texting generation has destroyed many people’s ability to spell or punctuate correctly anymore, and I steadfastly refuse to text “u” when I mean “you.”

This.

This.

 

Just had to add this one, from a Facebook friend who read this blog.

Just had to add this one, from a Facebook friend who read this blog.

However, I think there’s a business opportunity at play here. I am now officially offering my proofreading services for meme creators. I’m offering to charge any meme creator 50 cents per meme to avoid the embarrassment of putting a typo-riddled meme out there, representing them poorly in perpetuity. It only takes me a mere second to spot the problems–like the unfortunate misspelling of “discreet” in this one below–so I could power through several in hundred in an hour and actually earn a decent living! I should probably add tattoos, signage, and gravestones to my suite of proofreading service offerings.

There are so many memes out there that I adore, and I’d really love to repost them, but I just can’t bring myself to be visually represented by typos. Here are some examples:

When Webster's Dictionary is your friend...

When Webster’s Dictionary is your friend…

And this one…yes, even Alan Moore (if this is really his quote–without an extensive Google session, one never knows) doesn’t escape my scrutiny, but I loved the sentiment so much, I just had to post it, despite my inner turmoil over the missing apostrophe:

When apostrophes are your friend...

When apostrophes are your friend…

Then there’s this guy’s direct message to me on Facebook. As my friend Allyson said so eloquently, “I don’t know if I’m more disgusted by his intentions or his grammar.” That actually made me LOL!

 

Screenshot 2016-04-05 17.19.16

There isn't enough alcohol in the world to make me gravitate toward someone who spells and disrespects women this way...

There isn’t enough alcohol in the world to make me gravitate towards someone who spells and disrespects women this way…I mean, “I’d” NEEDS an upper case I and an apostrophe!

I once dated someone who emailed me some love poems, riddled with typos. Since he wasn’t the type to write love poems, nor was he overtly romantic, I honestly couldn’t discern his intentions in sending them to me…so I edited them in red ink and emailed them all back to him. All I could think of was that he must be merely sharing someone else’s poor grammar with me. That should have been my red flag. Yeah…as you might surmise, that relationship ended.

For those who don't wish to pay me .50 cents. Your loss.

For those who don’t wish to pay me .50 cents. Your loss.

So…if you have a meme you want to post, but you’re really not sure if the correct spelling is two, to, or too, I’m your girl. Send it to me FIRST. That is, after you Paypal me .50 cents.

And finally, THIS.

And finally, THIS.