Welcome to the jungle.

I often wonder if my kids (well, Kellen) feel like they are raising me and I am the child.

Here is why:

The other night Kellen was reading his lines for the play that he is going to be in at school at the end of the year (unlike his mom, he believes in being very prepaid for these things).  I knew he was picked to be the hippo.  I knew that he had a speaking part.

What I did not know until Tuesday was the name of the play.

Welcome to the Jungle.

TEE HEE.

So, like any other self respecting person of my age, I took this moment to sing, in my best Axel Rose voice, "Welcome to the jungle...."  Kellen was not phased by this, so I had to step up my game.

I got closer. And about an inch from his face sang, "KNEE'S KNEE'S KKKNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSS."

Hey, I thought I was pretty good.

And then, with out blinking an eye, and with a total straight face he asks, "Are you done?"

Well, I guess I could have been, but that would have been silly. I told him no and, "KNNNNNNNEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!" rang throughout the house followed by, "I am done now"

Kellen rolled his eyes, and went back to reading his part.

DANG!  I tell you, that kid is 8 going on 45!   I know (and have recently dated) grown men that act more immature then this kid!

I am going to have to get an Axel wig....I think that might annoy him a bit more next time!

Put me in coach! I'm ready to play.....

I am trying to line up a meeting with the coach of Cooper's flag football team.  We have a game on Sunday and since I did not even know that I was an assistant coach until Monday, we have to get our 'game plan' together.
Um...they are in first grade.  I am thinking that the game plan consists of run and pull the flag, but I could be wrong.

Anyhow.  The coach emails me yesterday to try and line up a meeting time.
Coach "Anytime in the evenings works.  How about Wed?"
Me "Evenings work best for me.  Wed will be just fine"

Skip ahead to this morning-

Coach "This is getting complicated.  I can meet you after 10pm tonight or Thursday night"
Me "Thursday night will be fine"

I have not heard back from him yet.

But...um....WHAT?  How that email conversation complicated.  AT ALL? 

And I am sorry, but I am not going to meet you at 10pm to talk about flag football.  That's just weird.  It's like some coaching booty call. 

I sure hope this is not a sign of things to come!

Just a random music moment

I'm Not That Girl" Lyrics



Hands touch, eyes meet
Sudden silence, sudden heat
Hearts leap in a giddy whirl
He could be that boy
But I'm not that girl


Don't dream too far
Don't lose sight of who you are
Don't remember that rush of joy
He could be that boy
I'm not that girl


Ev'ry so often we long to steal
To the land of what-might-have-been
But that doesn't soften the ache we feel
When reality sets back in

Blithe smile, lithe limb
She who's winsome, she wins him
Gold hair with a gentle curl

That's the girl he chose
And Heaven knows
I'm not that girl

Don't wish, don't start
Wishing only wounds the heart
I wasn't born for the rose and the pearl

There's a girl I know
He loves her so
I'm not that girl...


I love the musical Wicked.  I really do, but from time to time this song will randomly play on my iPod and I always seem to catch my breath.  We have all been there.  We all know what it feels like to be 'not that girl'. And even when we are not in that situation, we can remember a time when we might have been.  I am pretty sure that is what most 80's movies are based on, so it can't just be a select few of us!

Don't dream too far
Don't lose sight of who you are
Don't remember that rush of joy
He could be that boy
I'm not that girl

I think that this is my favorite part of the song. You let yourself dream.  Sometimes it works and other times, you get hurt.  I guess it's all part of the game.  Guess I would rather be in the game then spend my life on the bench, so it's a risk I am willing to take.

But when you wanted so desperately to be the one that he/she fell in love with and you come to the realization that it will never happen and they are giving that love to someone else ....makes you want to not only leave the game, but refuse to be a part of it ever again.

I am not saying this is about me.  Or that I am asking for my jersey to be retired.  I just heard this song a few minutes ago, and this was the feeling that it brought up in me.  That's all. 

Grace Fall...the video

Yeah, I KNOW I posted this on Facebook yesterday, but I could not figure out how to save it in the 'my videos' section so I thought that I would post in on here as well.

I watched it last night for the first time on the computer ( I had only watched it on my Blackberry) and while it was ok...there is just so much that I need to work on,  Ya know...if I do this again :)

One of these things is not like the other...

I am feeling a bit...on the outside looking in.

I am an odd duck.  I know this.  And at the moment, I don't feel like I fit in with any one group.

I have derby, but they really have no clue of what to do with me.  And I can understand that.  I am not a skater and I don't have any friends that skate.  I just showed up, ready to volunteer once in a while and just kinda stuck around.  I can see why the roller girls look at me funny when I tell them they have to give me the money for tickets or, well, really anytime I ask them anything or have to talk to them at all.

I have the whole world of soccer moms.  Yeah, I am not even going to spend any time on that.  Lets just say, I am not your normal soccer mom.

And now I have this new world of burlesque that I truly do adore, but I don't think that I fit into that group all that well either.  I do not look like a pin up not am not covered in wonderful tattoos.  When I think of ideas for acts I am not drawn to anything rockabilly.  In fact, I would be a giggling fool if I could pull off something to RUN DMC, Slick Rick or Beastie Boys. TRUE!

I just feel at the moment like I am in a pin ball machine and going from one part of the game to another, but never really landing in one spot to find a good fit.

Not sure what to do about this at the moment.     

Now what?

I have gotten that question alot since Tuesday.  And to tell you the truth, I am not really all that sure yet.

I can tell you that I know that I have a taste for burlesque.  I don't think that I can call myself a burlesque performer...at least not yet.  I think that I need to do it more then just once to call myself that...simply out of respect for all the other ladies that do it and put so much time and love into it.

I think that I would like to do it again. 

It's odd.  You start to hear songs and think, "Hey, that would be great!  I could do XYZ....."  And then you find yourself thinking, "What the hell am I thinking???  I am never going to do this again!"  So it's a strange mix of REALLY wanting to and not being all that sure.CRAZY!

I do know that I love the local burlesque community.  I think that if I never went back up on stage again, I could be happy with just helping out at shows.  Or doing my best to promote the Rose City School of Burlesque in anyway I can.  (And YAY to my friends who signed up for the next class in April--you will love it!).

So...what's next???  I DON'T KNOW.  Truth is I am still coming down from the high of Tuesday....and still can't get all that glitter to go away!

     

Grace Fall...

As I drove into work this morning (and as I write this now) I was overcome with such emotion from that last night, that all I could do/can do was/is cry.

I have to start with thanking all my friends that made it out to the show last night.

I am still in shock that so many of my friends were there.  I know it sounds silly, but I was worried that I would not have anyone there to cheer me on.  To see so many friends there, with such encouraging words really meant the world to me and I can't thank you all enough.  It really does bring me to tears now just thinking about it.

Thank you!


The show...OH.MY.GOD!

I was scared all day.  To the point where all I could do was grin (it's an odd reaction I have to sheer terror). 
I wanted to vomit.
I wanted to cry.
I wanted to get it over with.

All that went away when I walked into the ballroom.  At that moment, when I walked through the doors, it all felt...good.  Even though we got the news that we were on the 'big' stage and really had not practiced for that, it was not all that big of a deal.

As it got closer to the show, the nerves came back.
As I was on deck waiting to go on, I was a sweaty mess.

The music from the act before me ended.  Zora made her way on stage...my name was called.

If the music had been turned down just a bit, I am sure that everyone in that room would have been able to hear my heart beating.
My legs were wobbly and all I could think was "Please don't trip and dear god, please don't let my pasties fall off!"

And then the strangest thing happened...I became Grace Fall.  Or really, much like a person with multiple personalities, she became me.  Tamara, who is always filled with so much doubt and fear was gone, and Grace took over.  And for 4min and 33 seconds, she owned that stage.

I can't really say if the performance was any good or not.  For all I know I looked like a hot mess up there shaking my ass, but that does not matter.

All that matters is that I did it.
Did I cure cancer? No.
But I did do something that I was terrified to do and for the first time in a long time, I am proud of myself....and Grace.<3      

Thank god for Tums.

TODAY!  IT'S TODAY!!!!

Fuck.


That is really all I have to say on that at the moment :)

So many tears this week-and it's just Monday!

Grace Fall has lived in a suitcase since last Tuesday.  No, not as in being on the road and out and about and just has not bee home, but everything about her has not left the suitcase since she was last brought to life a week ago.

:sigh:

I should have spent ALL week practicing, but I just could not bring myself to put the costume back on.  In the last week I have been filled with so much self doubt that even putting the corset on seemed like a mean cruel joke.

I will do the show tomorrow.  That I do know.  But I am so unsure, not prepared and just sick to my stomach, that even writing this now, I am in tears.   

Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies...

To be honest, or to not be honest...that is my question of the day.

This does not pertain to everything, as I try my best to be a somewhat honest person, but I know that from time to time the white lie is needed.

Look, I am a mom.  The fact that I am a parent requires me to lie once in a while.  Yes, there really is a Santa Clause.  Hey look!  The Tooth Fairy brought you something!If you don't be nice to your brother, the Gypsies are going to come and take you to live with them.

All lies, yes.  And while I am not proud of it, all lies that I have told and seem to be ok with. 

I get the lies that we tell to our children.  Sometimes we tell them certain things in an effort to keep them pure and childlike (ok, the gypsy lie, not so much) for just as long as we can. 

I am not sure why, as adults, we make the choice to lie to other adults.  And I am not talking about BIG things like stealing money or cheating on a wife.  While I don't like those lies either, I do understand how humans work, and I know why people lie about the large, life changing events.
I am talking about little lies. And more specifically, the little lies we tell to people that are dating or have the potential to date.

To start with, you all know that I have not luck in this area and I have, for the most part, given up on it since this summer.
Recently I tried it out again.  And against all my better judgement, went out with someone. Nice enough guy.  I really do not have anything bad to say about him.  I know...odd for me, but it's true.  Not long after knowing this person, he tells me that that he can't see me due issues beyond my control.  Hmmm...a little odd, as these "issues" have been a part of my life for a long time, lets say 8 and 6 years.  Ok, dude.  Again, odd, as you pursued me, and knew the basics of my life, but ok.  Never talked to that dude again.  And that, if you know me, is really the strange thing, as we all know my thoughts on dating.  From time to time, the dating thing does not work out, but there is really no reason why you can't be friends. I guess I am odd when it comes to that.  Turns out that the reasons he gave me about not wanting to see me again were not 100% the truth.  The truth was more along the lines of, I really have not broken up with my ex, like I said I did and feel guilty that you and I have been hanging out. 

Ok, that was a bit of a douche move to lie about that one (and P.S. Portland is a really small town.  Lies seem to have a way of coming to the surface at some point.) but I probably would have understood.  And honestly, I knew the guy like a minute, so I was not invested in this either way.  The truth really would have been the best call here.

 Why are we not honest just from the start?  Not like a mean and nasty honesty, but enough honesty to leave the other person still feeling some respect for the other party.

 And I know that I am guilty of this as well as I was not really in a spot to date someone as my heart is wrapped up in a no win situation that will only have to get better with time. I guess I should have said this to him when he asked me out again, but I thought that hanging out with him would help the heart situation.  So, It would seem that once again, I suck too.

I think that I am going to by best to be a bit more open and honest.  Well, if I ever do date again, and I just don't see that in the cards for a while, but if I do...I think I will give it a try.

The Tassle Tales- Almost done!

With just one week left to go, last night was the dress rehearsal.  Dress rehearsal? Really?  Already?
I feel like I just signed up for the class!  Time really has flown by!

I know that I have documented my adventures in burlesque and have tried my best to keep you all updated on my progress.  From names and costumes to false eye lash epic fail.  It hasn't been pretty, but it's been a part of my life, so I wanted to share it.

Today is about my classmates.

After seeing all of them perform last night, I am just in awe of how much beauty and talent these women have.  I know that they all started the class for different reasons, but they are all ending it with the same thing-beauty, grace and courage.  These women are simply amazing.

As I have said before, I am not one to be creative or talented at anything.  I honestly have to work at being creative.  I am not sure if the others in this class are the same way, but their routines are all so diverse and each one brings something different to the stage.  Some of their routines had me saying to myself, "That is awesome!  Why didn't I think of that?!?"

It was also nice to see that we are all in the same boat when it comes to being scared to death to perform next week.  I don't know about you, but getting up on stage and trying to look good while dancing, acting, being sexy and take your clothes off is fucking scary! 

On the topic of nerves, I want to share a story from last night.

There is a girl in the class who is just adorable.  She is so nice....and made me my  first pair of practice pasties!  Last night, was rough for her.  She got up to perform, but had to go to the other room to collect her thoughts.  She did this quietly.  No drama.  Just sorta disappeared.  I saw this, and I did not want her to be all alone, so I went to go and find her.  We are not all that close or anything, but that is just how I am.  I could have known you for 30 years or 30 minutes, either way, I am not going to let you cry alone in a dark room! Let me just tell you that this performer is full of talent and spunk.  I know that I am not going to go on and be a burlesque performer.  I am almost 35, non creative and out of shape.  This is not the calling for me, but I think that it could be for her.  She has a classic beauty vibe about her and I think she could be a pretty amazing performer.  So when I saw her in the dark, head down and sobbing...it just broke my heart. Poor girl.  Nerves got the better of her, and she was just scared to death when really, she didn't need to be.  I did my best to reassure her of this, and give her the best win one for the Gipper speech that I could.  Eventually, she got up on that stage and stripped her little heart out!!!!  So proud of her!

When I got home last night, after a couple of drinks and some chicken fried steak (don't judge me...I was nervous and hungry) I got a little choked up.  I may not know many of the women in this class too well and I know that with most of them, I will never see them again, but we are a strange little family and I am going to miss them.  Class on Tuesday nights is like the big Sunday family dinner.  We get together.  We chat.  We share what is going on in our lives.  I am going to miss it.

I also adore the teachers.  They are so talented and honestly love what they do.  It shows.  I am so grateful to each of them for taking the time to teach this class and to share some of their knowledge with us.  They have been nothing but encouraging and there to help us, every step of the way.  I know that for me, I would not have been able to complete this class if it were not for them always telling me that not only could I do it, I am going to kick some ass while doing it.  I honestly can not put into words how much they have meant to me during this journey.

So, with one week to go, this adventure is almost done.  Will I suck next week?  Maybe.  But in the end, I know that I will walk off that stage with my head held high....and hopefully two pasties still on!


Oh...and for any of you gals out in blog reader land, I really do encourage you to take this class.  It's scary to think about, but in the end, so worth it.  http://rosecityschoolofburlesque.com/classes/

Worst mom ever?

This was an actual conversation that I had with my ex last night when I went to pick up the boys.

Forrest "Soooooo.....Cooper just told us that 'mommy will be dancing in a bar'..." insert smirk from Forrest.
Me "WHAT?  NO!  I AM NOT.  Well, not like that."

This is what lead to that conversation-

All weekend long I worked on my burlesque routine, as class ends in just one week.  And alot of this weekend I had my kids, so like it or not, they were in on the planning process.
Kellen got stuck going out to The Leotard (dance gear shop) with me on Sat to pick up 'professional grade fishnets' that are, in fact, professional grade.  No joke.  You could catch a trout in these things and still be able to wear them to perform (once you removed all traces of said trout).  Kellen heard me say to the woman who worked at the shop that I was taking a burlesque class and needed a certain type of fishnets, and heard the conversation about the class that followed that. BTW....go to to this store if you need anything for dance.  They are super nice and helpful. Just saying.
Kellen on the other hand was pissed.  He wants me to wear a bright green tutu for my performance, and they had the very one that he thinks I should own in the shop.  I had to promise him that if I ever created another routine, a tutu would be involved!
Cooper got to skip the trip to the dance shop, and he got stuck going shoe shopping with me.  At first, he was not thrilled, but I gave him a mission-
Find mommy the following shoes:
Black
7.5
closed toe
small heal
possibly shiny

And you know what?  The kid took his job very seriously, went about his business in the store and found me the perfect pair of shoes!  I then took him to players and kicked his butt at some skee ball.  It's the circle of life

On Saturday night we all went on a mission to pick just the perfect song to mix with the one that I already s planning on using.  The boys were totally kick ass at this job as well.  It took forever to find a song that I wanted and once I got to the right style of music, I had three to pick from.  I played them each for the boys and they helped me pick the song.  They also stayed up way past their bedtimes to learn how to mix the tracks with me.  Who said burlesque is not a family activity?

This brings me to Monday morning and a conversation with Kellen and I am pretty sure how Cooper got the "mommy is dancing in a bar" thing stuck in his pretty little head.

Kellen "So, your burlesque performance is next week?  I am going to try and be there so I can watch you."

Not sure how he was going to do this.  Maybe he was going to get a driver?

Me "Oh honey, that is so sweet, but you can't be there as it is in a place that serves drinks and they do not allow kids."

Kellen "Oh, well that is too bad.  Do a good job!"

I love my kids...always so supportive!

Cooper was around for this conversation and he has a way of twisting things in his head, so I can see where he got that, but SO SO WRONG!

So rest easy men of Portland, I will not be whipping my hair in your direction while Welcome to the jungle plays in the back round and the DJ announces that Cinnamon is next up on deck.

P.S.  I still have no clue of why all strippers smell like vanilla. Go to a club, sit at the rack, take a sniff...and try and tell me I am wrong!

One box of tissues, eight hours of re runs.

I've been sick with the plague that has been going around, so I spent all of yesterday sewing rhinestones onto my burlesque outfit and watching old Sex and the City re runs. I also have to add that this was done all while on high doses of cold meds.

While in a haze of Sudaphed and rhinestones and I had my very own Carry Bradshaw moment.
Like, heard her in my head, asking her signature Sex in the City type of questions...just before she moved to her laptop to work on her type up her thoughts.

The question, in my best Carry Bradshaw voice was this:
Why do we fall in love with people who have no desire to love us back and to make matters even worse, why do we feel the need to tell them that we are in love with them?

This is what I was pondering yesterday, between sniffles and coughs.

This kind of situation sucks.  It hurts.  And most of all, it's humiliating to have no control over your heart or your feelings.  It's like being out in public and knowing you are going to vomit.   You have no say in the matter, you just have to go with it and hope you don't puke on anyone unlucky enough to be near you.

I like to think that I am a smart person.  Brain surgeon?  No, not THAT smart, but I am smart enough to know not to go out of my way to get hurt.  I don't juggle knifes.  I don't stick my hand in any hot flames.  Stay away from undercooked food.  All things that I know will cause some paint...and possible disfigurement.  So why is it that I cause myself hurt (hopefully no disfigurement) by being in love with someone that is completely incapable of loving me back and just to make sure I poked myself in the eye....why would I tell them that I feel this way? 

The second half of that question, I blame on me.  I have this odd need to tell people how I feel about them. 
I seem to have it in my head that it just might be important to let people know that you care about them and that they mean something to you.  This is a flaw that I will have to get rid of...SOON!

But the first half of the question?  I have no clue.  I don't know why our hearts do the opposite of what our heads tell us.

What I am pretty sure of is....this is why I drink!

Trying to bring the sexy: A cautionary tale...

This is how you know you should be the emcee of a burlesque show and not actually  one of the performers.

I spent all last night trying to get ready for the 22nd, and all while also trying to kill whatever cold bug has taken my body hostage. Admittedly, not the best combo for trying to be sexy...or anything other then a lump for that matter.  To start off with, I had spent so long trying to hand sew something jewels onto the garter belt, that I was damn near blind...and had to switch from the contacts to the glasses.  Yes, very sexy-not!
Second, I lack a great sense of balance on my best day, so you mix in glasses and NyQuil, and really, it's lucky I am not typing this from the hospital while they are setting a broken leg.

I am sure you can see where this is going, but I will continue anyway.

I am so far behind for my class, that I should just take it again and try for that final performance, but I wont, so I am cramming.  As of now, I still don't have the costume done, so I have not done a full walk through of the song.  I have shimmied half assed around my bedroom trying to work out a routine, but have not committed to doing the whole number yet.  So last night I thought it would be a great idea to do so.  And as we all know, my great idea are often far from great!

It's late.  The kids are in bed.  LET'S DO THIS!

I get into the parts of the outfit that I have finished (although I still do not have pasties, and I had a bit of a panic attack about that at this same moment), put on the song (well, half of it as I still have to find some 50's type of song to play at the beginning) and do my best to try and be sexy and work on some moves.

Starts out ok.  A little bump here.   A little grind to the left.  Sexy over the shoulder playful smile to the audience (or the mirror).  Hey...look at me...all sexy and stuff...

AND THEN IT WAS ALL SHOT TO HELL.

Turned around, caught my foot on the side of the leg of the bed, loss my balance, hit the side of the dresser, fell to the ground, what ever was on the dress fell on top of me....and all I could do was lay there in a pile of clothes, dressed in a corset and laugh. 

I was laughing so hard that I was crying, and if you would have seen it, you would have laughed as well.

I am fine.  I have a large bruise to my body and an even larger one to my ego, but nothing broken and no black eyes.

Hopefully nothing like this will happen on the 22nd, but if it does....please make me a promise.
Promise me that you will laugh along with me, because if I can't be sexy, at least I can make you laugh and in the end, that is all I wanted!    
        

Stupid voice in my head...

Oh how I hate being a hypocrite.  Really, hate it.

Even worse is when I get called out on it.

Ok, I must clarify that last sentence as I did not get called out on it by anyone else, because, well...who am I kidding, to others I am damn near perfect and have not one flaw.  People want to be me!

Yeah...a bit much on that last statement?  Forgive me, I have not slept in two nights and my idea of humor is a bit off today.

ANYWAY...back to what I was saying.  Getting called out.  I am sure that others have LOTS of things that they want to call me out on (you have my number, send a txt...we can chat) but for this particular case of hypocrisy, I found I was the one calling myself out.

AND THAT SUCKS because it just looks funny when you are arguing with yourself and trying to prove that you are, in fact, far from a hypocrite.  Also, it's hard to win an argument with yourself, and I pretty good at arguing!

Why I am a hypocrite?  Had a conversation with someone recently about stuff and in my head (while having a conversation with a real human and not just looking crazy talking to myself) I was thinking "Why would you do that? Why not just nut up and say what you mean?"  I was going to say this to the person and at that very moment, when conversation would have been appropriate, I heard my head voice telling me, "Um...you did that too"  WTH?  Head voice is not allowed to argue with me at moments like this!  "Shut the hell up, head voice!"  is what I was thinking back, but the seed of doubt had already been planted.

I thought about it more, later in the day,  and it's so true.  I was guilty of the same thing that I had questioned the other person for.  I was/am a hypocrite.  Do I get a special parking spot at the mall now??

*But I am still almost perfect in every other way, so really, I am a much better person then the other person in this situation :)  

**The word appreciate and the saying I hate you....much more of the same meaning then the Websters people would have you to believe.      

My door is always open

It's funny how closure can happen in so many ways.
You think that it is going to be this big thing.  The talk that answers all the questions.  The chat where all the lies and hurt from the past are addressed.  The final hug and kiss goodbye.  The last big cry.

We see it as this big bad negative event that will sum up everything that went wrong or had not been addressed previously.  Closure.  Shut the door.  Toss the key.  Walk away.  Done.

It occurred to me this morning that closure does not have to be a negative.  And I don't think that closure has to  be the end of a relationship, but the ending of the part of the relationship that was not working for the parties involved.

Nor does it have to be this dark thing that we are so afraid to face.

This morning, as the dark of night faded into the light of a brand new day, I stood face to face with closure.

I felt foolish.
I shook my head.
I smiled.
My heart skipped a beat.
I laughed.

And I started a brand new day.

???????

I'm so mad, I could spit!

Hmmm...I never really understood that term. I am pretty mad at the moment, but spitting really does not sound like something that I would enjoy doing.  I am not really a fan of any sort of body fluid, so spitting just seems nasty.  I guess if you were REALLY mad at someone, you could spit on them, but again...not really my thing.

Another saying that I just never understood?

F*** me running.
Maybe I have just over thought this, but I am pretty sure it is physically impossible to accomplish this task. But feel free to give it a try and get back to me if I am wrong!

MIA???

Person A-

You have seemed to have gone missing.  I will admit, I am worried.
Do I put you on a milk carton (do they still do that?).
Issue an Amber Alert?

Please advise as to what my next move should be.

XOXO
T 

The casket

I did not feel like taking the freeway to my doctors apt today, so I went the back way, up and over the hill and passed the cemetery.  I have driven this way thousands of times.  And  it is always pretty much the same. 
But today I got stuck in some traffic, so I slowed down to stop and found myself looking out my window and over at the cemetery.  I have seen funerals in progress or the flowers that are left behind, and none of this has ever bothered me.  But today as I looked out the window, I saw something new.  Or new to me as I had never seen it. 
Up on a little hill, with nothing else around it was a casket.  No people.  No flowers.  No undertakers.
Casket.  Raised up and just waiting to placed in the ground.

Maybe it was the cold, wet and cloudy day, but at that moment, looking out at the raised casket, everything just looked gray.   Almost as seeing what I was looking at as if I were in an old black and white movie.

Or maybe the color was not gray, but the emotion that seeing that sight brought up in me.

It was sad.  Where were the people? Flowers?  The color?
In this, the last moment before being placed into darkness, shouldn't there be some color?