NSFW Warning!!


Post 2.

If you are new to this blog, scroll down to post 1 to start at the beginning. XO M

Unvarnished excerpt from the upcoming book Viking Funeral…

FFWD>>>Full Disclosure Explicit Language Ahead!!

Fast forward several years post Viking Funeral. My husband and I hosted a small family gathering. The crowd thinned to just the younger generation of adults who were staying the night at our house. They were collecting themselves at the table for a game of cards and to enjoy another round of booze. Three of Dave’s and my nieces: Kelli, Stephanie, and Jaclyn, my son Steven, another cousin Brad, and a friend of the family, Nick, were finding places to sit down at our dining room table to play cards with my husband and me.

Kelli and I had been talking about my work (varsity procrastination foot dragger) on this epic failed autobiography moments before sitting down while everyone else was in place shuffling the cards, trash talking each other in pre-game fashion as to who was going to win. Among the banter around the table, someone made my son Steven burst out laughing. Kelli’s eyes flashed with a stunned look on her face as she pointed at Steven, her eyes instantly brimming with tears as she said, “Oh, My God, that laugh!” Steven, oblivious to Kelli, was still laughing with his cousins. She continued, “It sounds JUST like DAVE’S!”

Jaclyn and Stephanie were peeled away from their laughter with Steven by Kelli’s comment, and they, too, realized what they were hearing, that same inward laugh. It sounds like a seal breathing inward sharply, catching its breath, maybe recovering from a seal asthma attack. It’s hard to describe but once you hear it, you never forget. I instantly teared up at both Kelli’s reaction, the collective change of focus at the table and at the realization of what I too was hearing. It was unexpected, that long-lost barking seal of laughter of Dave sitting at the table with us. How had I missed it? He is my 25-year-old son! I suppose I was too close to the fire or the forest or the trees to have noticed how Steven’s laugh had changed over time from the cute whinny of a pony when he was little to the barking seal of a laugh now in adulthood. THAT laugh that sounded exactly like my brother Dave’s hilarious and infectious laugh. This entire realization and brief sniffle lasted mere seconds before we burst into laughter at ourselves and got on to that round of cards, more spirits, and much more laughter.

Admittedly, I have a bit of a potty-mouth. I get excited and use colorful language for good or bad circumstances in life and, subsequently, in this book. No one ever wrote a book about nothing interesting happening at all using blah blah blah language. Expletives abound in this book driven by some very extraordinary events, so be prepared to deal with it. Not Safe For Work warnings officially given and all that, meant to convey intense emotional emphasis, not to offend.

Now that everyone is on the same page here; knowing that our hero is in fact gone; that he is missed to tears years later on; that I have a potty mouth; and that there is absolutely NO poetic license taken. I hope you enjoy time travel through these biographical essays that happened in the real life of my Viking Fucking Warrior of a brother, Thomas David (DAVE) Linane. No bullshit. See what I mean? I type pretty fast, and it just slips out.

Here is how it went down:


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