Can I just state for the record that I have amazing friends and family (I mean, the family I still associate with!)? When I asked a select few of them if they would come to a memorial dinner for Marcy, and would that be weird, they all said yes and no, in that order.
Lisa reminded me that anyone who knows me also knew Marcy, and it made sense that I would want to celebrate her life with my closest peeps. When I say that she touched a lot of lives, I am not joking. And that’s actually just a nicer way of saying she pierced a lot of flesh, anyway.
I knew right away that this had to happen at Blue Flame. I spent so much of my childhood there with my Pappap, had so many high school hangouts there with Lisa and our crew, and still gravitate toward it to this day when I need some comfort and a dose of familiarity.
But don’t get it twisted—this was no somber event! We laughed so much and told stories about Marcy, and this was really what I needed. I woke up on Saturday excited that I was going to see some of my favorite people later on, and that felt so much better than wallowing around in a quiet house. The bottom line is that I wanted to be around awesome people and celebrate Marcy’s legacy.
I made prayer cards to pass out and brought two framed photos of her to display on the tables. Judy of course knew the waitresses and owners of the Blue Flame, so after she got the obligatory hugs out of the way, she made sure to tell everyone that she was there for a cat’s memorial dinner. Even Wonka came, after the trauma Marcy put him through 15 years ago! (His note in the sympathy card he gave me started with “Though the world is now a safer place…”)
Barb at one point was talking about my favorite subject – me. I love listening to her go on and on about how amazing and incredible and perfect and goddess-like I am, how I should have won the Pulitzer by now and why haven’t I run for President yet and how come MTV hasn’t given me a show where I teach the world to be their best versions of Erin Rachelle Kelly; Lisa’s eyes were practically rolling out the door and across the parking lot.
“I am just fascinated by what goes on in Erin’s head!” Barb gushed, to which Lisa replied, “Let me explain it for you. Erin takes something thisbig and turns it into something THIS BIG,” Lisa frowned, making her fingers spread far away from the imaginary object she was holding. “Except the one thing she actually never exaggerated was her Marcy stories.” And Janna emphatically co-signed that sentiment from across the table.
Speaking of Janna! I got to tell the story about Janna getting in trouble for taking her mom’s car when we went to Nemacolin Castle last December, and Corey, who was sitting at another table, perked up and yelled, “Are you telling them about the silhouette?!” IT NEVER GETS OLD!
Barb and Kara were moderately chuckling at the story, Judy looked confused, and Lisa disappointingly sighed, “Poor Janna.”
Meanwhile, Janna www mumbling about how it really wasn’t that funny and she wasn’t even “in trouble” with her mom like Corey and I keep insisting. We basically have Janna halfway to Flowers in the Attic.
Judy told everyone the story about how whenever she would put her shoes on, Marcy would know that meant Judy was about to go outside, so she would race to the door and wait. They sat on the porch together every day last summer when she was here babysitting Chooch.
“I loved her, but I wouldn’t touch her. I never touched her ONCE,” Judy bragged. “She scared me too much.” She told us that one time when they were on the porch, Judy started to get up because she was ready to go in the house, and Marcy started swatting at her legs because she wasn’t ready yet. Marcy was like that.
Then I was pissed because Janna ordered stuffed French toast and I wished I had ordered it. Lisa was like, “JANNA DON’T YOU DARE GIVE HER YOUR FOOD!” Lisa is very much against people coddling me. I ended up getting raisin French toast, which is odd because I usually always get grilled cheese. I don’t know what I was thinking.
And then Barb purposely commented on my eyeball purse, which made Chooch whip around in his seat and glower at her.
“Why do you hate your mom’s purse so much, Chooch?” she asked him.
“Because! Every time we’re out, people are always like ‘Oh I love your purse’ and they pass me right up!” Chooch cried.
“Wow. Who does that remind me of?” Lisa deadpanned.
After dinner, everyone minus Barb and Lisa came back to my house for cake, wine, and hockey. Chooch and Harland drove Janna nuts with Minecraft questions, and maybe Wonka too but he was a better sport about it than Janna, who kept sighing angrily and stomping over to the computer to yell, “WHAT CHOOCH I DON’T KNOW!?” And then she had me and Corey laughing like hyenas on top of that, so it’s really a wonder she hangs out over here at all! We seriously talked about The Silhouette 87 times that night, to mixed reactions. Corey has also recently taken to sending me pictures of shadowy raised hands behind curtains, so god only knows what he’s googling to find those!
LEMON CAKE. It was OK. I wanted Henry to make this carrot cake that I found in a raw dessert cookbook online but apparently the ingredients were too “expensive.” OK, lazy ass.
Wonka’s girlfriend Jess said that my house was very stimulating and I was like, “Thank you for noticing!” There really is a lot to look at, which I think drives Henry nuts at times. And then Jess got pulled into a super intense “over-share” with Judy, where Henry overheard Judy mention something about a time she was engaged to some dude that Henry didn’t know about. Henry was like, “Well, I just learned something new about my mom.” Then I made her tell the Brick Alley story because that story rules.
We spent the rest of the evening hanging out, telling stories, looking through photo albums (it’s been a hot minute since Wonka and I used to hang out regularly, so that was a fun jog!), reminding Kara every 30 seconds of how adorable Theo is (and Harland!), and planning our next ridiculous trip to the Palace of Gold. It was just what I needed, even though I inadvertently drank too much wine and spent the early hours of Sunday full of regret. I like to imagine that Marcy was glaring down from wherever she is, pissed that so many people were in her house, but also kind of secretly enjoying it. Because for a cat who hated people, she sure was social.