And my rates would go up, I’d have no car for a while, and have to be on the phone with adjusters and body shops for a problem that can be solved in an hour with hand tools. Even with me footing the bill, it’s not a big deal.

He probably had a $500 deductible... so why involve insurance and pay $500 for them to give you a part you can buy for less than $200...

Because I like to do things the hard way.

Someone had a screwed up ruined wedding story here about 9/11. I think we need a 9/11 messed up things contest but I don’t really know how to do that...

The actual funeral for my grandfather? Was fine—as fine as something like that can be. It was the day after that things got bad—9/11/01.

Holy Mother of Dog — where to start? I am from the south.

TL:DR: My family cause scenes at cousin’s funeral, a 14 year old girl stops a riot, and family gets banned from Funeral Parlour.

When my dad died we had a huge Irish wake following the funeral service. My sisters and I Irish danced growing up so we had all the girls we danced with perform, all the dads and brothers from dance in kilts, a keg of Guiness, the whole bit. After the dancing died down, my sister and some of her friends were hanging…

Oh GOD, I’ve just remembered the one my sister told me about the boy she had a crush on at High School. Bear with me, it’s a long one. It’s also a wee bit painful.

So this is nowhere near as odd as some in here, but here goes. My grandmother died in 2009, 2 months after my youngest daughter was born. My little sister had just had her first, my oldest nephewnephew, at the same time. We grew up going to a very old, and very serious, country church full of very old, serious…

I briefly told this tale once before on gawker but here it is again. My father died a couple of years ago. He was a horrible abusive parent as I still have the physical and mental scars to prove it. He was a proud Mormon in the “do what I say not as I do” kind of way. I had not talked to him much over the last 20…

My Grandfather suffered a major stroke one day at the local car wash.

My beloved grandfather passed away three days after Christmas in 1998. This, naturally, triggered an outpouring of emotion from my mother (his only child), me (his only grandchild) and my father (for whom my grandfather had been a father-figure) and a perilous journey three hours north to South Bend, Indiana from…

Was after my dad’s funeral mass. Other family members and I were getting in limos and family cars when the funeral home director came to car I was in, knocked on window, and very casually asked me, my sister, her husband: “Do you happen to have your dad with you?” Meaning, my dad’s ashes! We looked startled, then…

My pappy was buried in a nice flannel shirt and suspenders.

My dad died when I was 21. The whole extended family came to town for his wake, including my great-aunt, whose husband had died and been cremated several years prior. During the wake, amid all the sobbing etc etc, there’s whispering among the attendees: she can’t find her husband. Pitying the poor woman, the nieces…

When my Great Aunt Ruth died, we all flew in from various parts of the country and gathered at the Family Cemetary. Now I should mention this is the Jewish side of the family, and this NY cemetery is the one known for reselling graves and stacking bodies, so it’s obviously not the best in the world. Ruth’s husband…

My two nieces and I went to the funeral of our cousin who passed away unexpectedly in her sleep and was only 22. Given the circumstances it was extremely heartbreaking and she had been close buddies with my youngest niece since they were the same age. After the wake we were in the procession headed to the burial and a…

My father was diabetic. He was blind, on dialysis, and had both legs amputated; one above the knee, one below. He was a large man, so moving him was difficult. Hospice care had begun, so we knew he didn’t have much time left. My siblings and I moved back home to help my mother care for him in between the nurse’s…