Even the dead can be fashionably late

Dad and Uncle Tommy Uncle Tommy, one of my father's younger brothers, died Saturday, and the funeral was today. The funeral mass was supposed to be at 10 am. The hearse finally pulled up at 10:30, giving us just enough time to squeeze in a mass before the next mass. I just like typing that word. Mass mass mass mass.

As we waited for my uncle's body to arrive, an old man, probably my uncle's friend, leaned over to another old man and said, "I always told you Tommy would be late for his own funeral."

And he was. Awesome.

Cheers, Uncle Tommy. You picked the one party that couldn't start without you and rocked it.