Okay, I’m less postal this afternoon than I was for the morning’s post. I had ice cream. 
I showed my family the eulogy that I wrote for my mom, and my sister Terry sent this:
I love the words about the legacy of our father’s temper, our mother’s dramatics and the stubbornness they shared. We also inherited their intelligence and Mom’s strength – and our blindness to our positives. We inherited our Dad’s sense of humor – both good and bad. We inherited Dad’s depression and Mom’s ability to create alternate memories. We inherited their love of books. We inherited a basic instinct for family and we stick together despite some real differences among us. We know how to have fun when we step away from the rest of it.
I wrote back that I also inherited:
- Daddy’s VOLUME during football games!
- His love for the holidays and vast amount of Christmas decorations.
- Mom’s tendency to obsess over something, like an object. John calls them my “quests” as in, am I going to drag him around trying to find a particular book.
- And obviously, Mom’s packrat tendencies.
I wish I had gotten my Dad’s metobolism – the man never put on a pound! — and my Mom’s ability to tan. For a woman who was supposedly English and Medonite descent, she had the ability to stick her arm out the window for 10 minutes and get a bronze tan all over her body. 
