Will the good still come with the bad?

I'm not sure if I mentioned this in the last couple posts, but I finally completed all the steps of applying for the nursing program. I was selected for an interview with someone from the nursing program as well as the vice president of student services. I tried to prepare for it, but when I got in there I was asked everything that I wasn't prepared for. Go figure! Even though it didn't go as well as I anticipated, I still answered everything they asked me to the best of my ability. I was confident and spoke about my experiences with pride but I never came across as being better than everyone else.. because I know that I am not. Now I am playing the waiting game again. I have to wait until mid/late March to receive a letter from the school stating whether or not I have been accepted into the program for this fall or if I have to try again for next fall.
Meanwhile, I am praying that the good still comes with the bad. This morning Tony's grandmother passed away. With all that I have had to deal with over the last year, the least that life could hand me now is an acceptance letter into the RN program for this fall. I have more than enough angels on my side now and I'm sure at least one of them could pull some strings for me. :/

Until we meet again.

Another brief hiatus. My apologies. Aunt Marie's services were a bit of a mess. For starters, she looked awful and by no fault of the funeral home. She was always a well put together woman. Her hair was always colored and permed, she always dressed nicely and had matching jewelry. The woman in the casket just wasn't her. It wasn't the woman I remember as I grew up. But I guess after spending a year in a nursing home, I couldn't expect her to look like she used to. Her room at the funeral home had a lovely picture of her at the entrance, with the time of the funeral mass and the wrong location. It was all private services though, so everyone knew the correct location. The wake wasn't all that emotional. Atleast it wasn't for me. With it being the 6th death in 1 year for me, I don't think I have any emotions left. Not to mention her death wasn't at all a surprise for any of us. It wasn't an IF.. it was a WHEN. She lived a good life and her wish was to be with God. We all respected that.

The day of the funeral, my heart was pounding. I had never been a pallbearer before. With all the weight I have lost and how frequently I had gotten sick in the last couple months, I was unsure of my strength and the last thing I wanted to do was drop my aunt. I did okay though. It wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be.. until we got to the church. When I looked out the car window and saw the 2 steep flights of stairs my palms started to sweat. It took a little bit of team work and muscle power, but we made it up. The mass was beautiful. The funeral procession to the cemetary wasn't a different story though. Tony and I were 4 cars behind the hearse and 2 cars behind the priest. When the car infront of us got cut off by an impatient woman I became furious. When she took a right down a side street, I couldn't hold myself back. I rolled the window down, stuck the upper half of my body out, and screamed obscenities at her. When I pulled myself back into the car, I realized that I probably shouldn't have said the words that I did, considering the priest was only 2 cars ahead and the fact that my aunt used to be a nun. When I spoke with my mom about it (who was riding about 3 or 4 cars behind us) she admitted to hearing me yell at the lady. Oops, the priest must have heard me as well. I'm sure I'm forgiven though.. I hope. When we got to the cemetary, the plot had already been dug up. However, my grandfather began looking all around. He turned back to the people from the funeral home and said, "This is the wrong plot!" Good grief. They told my papa that it would be taken care of. I hope it was. Because once she's in the ground, we'll never know.

Rest in perfect peace, Aunt Marie. Until we meet again. <3