I'm finally ready...
I was never more proud of my grandpa than at my grandma's funeral. My grandpa died when I was 8, and in that time, I only had two memories of him - that he was a military man who scared the daylights out of me and that he loved me more than anything. I don't remember much about his military funeral, except quietly standing in the giant cemetery with my parents.
I didn't return to Leavenworth National Cemetery until my grandma's funeral 2 weeks ago. Brent, my parents, brother and I went early to visit grandpa beforehand. Even with the gravestone-location machine, it still took us awhile to find him, but when we did, I was so proud of him. Unlike the other tombstones where the military resume only took up one or two lines, my grandpa's took up the entire thing:
U.S. Colonel
World War II
Korea
Vietnam
I'm not one for war, and I know I never will be, but looking at his list of accomplishments brought tears to my eyes.
As for my grandma, her funeral consisted of family and several close friends. My grandma didn't want anything big. At 95, all her friends died awhile ago, and we honored her request. The service itself lasted maybe 5 minutes at the chapel in the cemetery. It consisted of us saying a prayer, and then discussing happy memories of her - only 4 people, myself included, said a memory. Neither my dad or aunt said anything. It breaks my heart that neither of them have any fond memories of her from their childhood, but grandma seemed to live a life of lies and we will never know the half of them. My grandpa never knew her real age (which was 4 years older), she said she was Spanish all her life when she was really Mexican and she never talked about family, or her past for that matter. She never let anyone know her.
After the service, we walked back to grandpa's grave - where grandma will now join him. Her name will go on the back of his tombstone, like all spouse's names do in military cemeteries.
We then witnessed something I never thought I would ever see - them burring my grandma. I don't mean that I never thought she would die (although I have joked many times that she would outlive us all), I mean, the hole was already dug when we got there, and we watched the workers put her urn in the hole, and then cover her up until the grass was back on top. It was an odd form of closer, watching more and more dirt fall on her by the minute.
As for the rest of my dad's family, I feel what very little was left died with grandma. While grandma had no idea who she was half the time in the past 10 years, she kept everyone together, at least somewhat. Everything fell apart several years ago, and I expect it to stay that way, if not get worse. I know my mom talks about moving on and forgiving my uncle, but I'm not ready and I don't think I ever will be. Seeing his declined reply card to my wedding, his only niece, broke my heart even though I expected him not to come. Until that point, it was a fight between my parents and him, but with that check mark, he brought Brent and me into the battleground, and I'm just done with it.
There is no one left in my dad's family, and I can't imagine what my dad is going through.
I didn't return to Leavenworth National Cemetery until my grandma's funeral 2 weeks ago. Brent, my parents, brother and I went early to visit grandpa beforehand. Even with the gravestone-location machine, it still took us awhile to find him, but when we did, I was so proud of him. Unlike the other tombstones where the military resume only took up one or two lines, my grandpa's took up the entire thing:
U.S. Colonel
World War II
Korea
Vietnam
I'm not one for war, and I know I never will be, but looking at his list of accomplishments brought tears to my eyes.
As for my grandma, her funeral consisted of family and several close friends. My grandma didn't want anything big. At 95, all her friends died awhile ago, and we honored her request. The service itself lasted maybe 5 minutes at the chapel in the cemetery. It consisted of us saying a prayer, and then discussing happy memories of her - only 4 people, myself included, said a memory. Neither my dad or aunt said anything. It breaks my heart that neither of them have any fond memories of her from their childhood, but grandma seemed to live a life of lies and we will never know the half of them. My grandpa never knew her real age (which was 4 years older), she said she was Spanish all her life when she was really Mexican and she never talked about family, or her past for that matter. She never let anyone know her.
After the service, we walked back to grandpa's grave - where grandma will now join him. Her name will go on the back of his tombstone, like all spouse's names do in military cemeteries.
We then witnessed something I never thought I would ever see - them burring my grandma. I don't mean that I never thought she would die (although I have joked many times that she would outlive us all), I mean, the hole was already dug when we got there, and we watched the workers put her urn in the hole, and then cover her up until the grass was back on top. It was an odd form of closer, watching more and more dirt fall on her by the minute.
As for the rest of my dad's family, I feel what very little was left died with grandma. While grandma had no idea who she was half the time in the past 10 years, she kept everyone together, at least somewhat. Everything fell apart several years ago, and I expect it to stay that way, if not get worse. I know my mom talks about moving on and forgiving my uncle, but I'm not ready and I don't think I ever will be. Seeing his declined reply card to my wedding, his only niece, broke my heart even though I expected him not to come. Until that point, it was a fight between my parents and him, but with that check mark, he brought Brent and me into the battleground, and I'm just done with it.
There is no one left in my dad's family, and I can't imagine what my dad is going through.