From my last post, you'll know that I attended the memorial service for my aunt today. What I didn't tell you in that post was that my family ALMOST BOKE THE PEW during the service. No one owned pews growing up, obviously, but my family always sat in the fourth row of the left center section, sandwiched in between two other rows of family members. Pap's older brother and his wife and kids and grandkids sat in front of us; his younger brother, whose wife just died, played the church organ, but his kids always sat behind us. We were a row behind where we used to sit, so I'm going to blame the pew's weakness on my cousin, who deserves it for tickling me with palm fronds every year well into my 20s, when he was a grown-ass man. But I digress. I don't come from small people, and we were shoulder-to-shoulder in our row. Big shoulders. Some big people, myself included. Before the service began, a pew in the far left section of the church gave a huge CRACK and the...
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