Well happy may be stretching it. But is surely was a celebration of a life more than a grieving at a death.

Dave Taylor’s mother Gertie died at 98. She hadn’t been well and maybe even she thought it was time to leave.

Loads of people showed up which is unusual in someone that old and they weren’t just family. It seems that many people loved her.

This is saying a lot because even though her son in his eulogy said that no one ever had a bad word to say about her and she never had a bad word to say about anyone, that was not the Gertie I knew.

She had plenty of bad words to say and she didn’t hesitate to say them. That might have been what I liked most about her.

I wrote about her in this blog before when I visited her in the nursing home. She was quick and fun to be with.

I didn’t recognize her from Dave’s brother’s description at the grave sight but he was her son and he loved her and wanted to remember her like sort of a Jewish Mother Teresa.

I kind of like that. If anyone comes to my funeral please say that I was very skinny and polite and that though my talents lay in tap dancing I was more of a ballet kind of girl.

Oh yes and that I never had a bad word to say about anyone even that whore that stole my husband.