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on the 10th, i attended the funeral of an elderly, ill great-aunt in Plaquemine. I intended to ride with my Aunt Rose and her three children, twin boys, and younger daughter Kimyetta. They live just 7 minutes away near mid-city and I come to their house often. In fact, I'm there now, but this is another story. I ended up driving myself to P-town due to the fact that I couldn't find a certain pair of pants in time.
After the funeral, the church emptied. I honestly wasn't devastated as most people will not be if they are not that close or familiar with the deceased. I focused more on the opportunity to see close family members I realized I hadn't seen in ages. My older cousin Kendra who lives in Maryland now and will be moving to Africa for her husband's career soon. Her sister Laconas who moved to Lafayette. A few others.
Kimyetta and I hung together waiting for the "adults" who were driving to finally stop talking and follow the procession out to Bayou Goula cemetery. Kim and I are the younger girls in our immediate family circle, after Kendra and Connie. We hang out alot; she's basically a younger (15) sister to me.
The women in our family love to talk, and with the occassion at hand it was understandable. The procession had already left at this point and the drive to the cemetery would take a good 25 minutes.
Kimyetta's brother, had just gotten his first car a few days before. Impatient, he decided to take his own car to the cemetery though he would rather have ridden with someone else. The other twin brother was relegated to driving the family car with his mom and some other older women. I rode with my own mother and father, and of course Kim.
Last Friday was a fucking unusually gorgeous spring day.
There wasn't a lot of sunlight, but the weather was cozy with a great breeze. Standing in a cemetary surrounded only by cane fields romanticized everything a bit more. It's amazing how everything felt good despite the fact that we were at a funeral. I haven't personally had a day like that all year. On the ride to Bayou Goula, Kim, with a bit of my own sense of humor, made a crack about how the mortician actually looked like he was born for the job. Also, about where we would be meeting after we left the cemetery: "where is the thing being held, i don't want to call it an after-party... what do you call it?" My mom laughed; I suggested Kim just call it a "gathering."
Of course there were tears, but my immediate family circle was somewhat light-hearted, smiling, happy to see those we hadn't seen in too long. We stood together watching the casket lower and then the crowd disperse. I brushed Kim's hair into place after a breeze had disheveled it a bit. We began walking back to the cars, on our way back to the church for the gathering. Kim and I decided we were both hungry and ready to get back. The adults once again kept stopping on their way to the cars to chat.
My mom made about 3 attempts to the car, traveling less than 4 feet. I just stood waiting for her to finish conversation. Kim got bored and walked over to her twin brothers, who were talking with/consoling another cousin, the one who had just buried his grandmother. She called me over, "Alicia..come on!" I just walked to my parent's car and waited with my Dad who had started the engine a while ago. Mom finally came back to the car, and I then noticed Kimyetta and one brother, Jonathan, had already left for the church.
Driving back to Plaquemine on HWY 1, my mom and the other woman riding with us were discussing the services and how they would prefer their own to be, which honestly sounded too morbid even for me.
We saw a line of cars of the shoulder of the road about 3 minutes into the ride.
I thought that perhaps the house they were in front of was having a party, but then immediately my stomach dropped. It was weird how I could feel that something was wrong, specifically just for us.
It only took three seconds, from being curious about the stopped cars to seeing one black car wrapped like a ribbon along the trunk of a young thin tree.
I could see someone in a white shirt and black pants lying next to it.
We were out in the field for probably less than an hour. Of course it felt longer.
I had to leave my shoes in the highway because I couldn't run in the grass. I never got that close to Kimyetta, though I could make out her white oxford shirt and pants. I started running after my mom and Kim's mom, Rose, but saw my cousin Jason collapse in grass, crying. I stayed to hold him, someone had to be with him, he had possibly just lost both his twin brother and younger sister. We both fell in the grass crying. The cousin who had just buried his grandmother 10 minutes ago, the one that Kim and her brothers were consoling, sat with us, holding us both.
It was weird seeing the story on the news. Channel 9 news donated seconds to the story. A car carrying a boy and his younger sister crashed. The driver survived, but would be charged with vehicular homicide. The children were speeding and weren't wearing seatbelts. Next Segment.
I'd see stories like this on the news and would think that's really all there was to it.
Looking at the footage of the car, anyone can gather that it had been forced off the road.
There is no way a single driver could have done that. Kimyetta would yell at anyone who hadn't put on their seatbelt before the car even revved. Jonathan isn't reckless, especially with his sister in the car, especially traveling from a cemetery to a church.
Apparently another driver forced them off the road, while trying to pass them, merging directly into their lane, and probably had to have hit them for them to spin off the road.
And was bold enough to continue driving down Hwy 1, leaving the carnage behind him.
There's a lot more. Kimmie's funeral was Friday. Jonathan gave me his rose, since he was in a wheelchair, to lay on Kim's casket. I let Rose and Jason lay theirs down before me. Rose simply said, "Bye, Kim." I couldn't speak at all, I honestly felt ashamed for not being able to hold myself together for her mother.
On the drive back to Plaquemine I rode with my brother, my dad, my mom, and fred. My mom commented on how this was the first time in years we'd all been in a car together. I remember her saying earlier in the week how Kimmyetta was always the one to suggest family gatherings and trips; she always wanted to keep in touch with everyone, and how everyone was already together on the day she died.
I pointed out the spot where the wreck happened to Fred when we passed it. It's odd how that tree, a thin decorative one that i can wrap my hands around, was still standing untouched. It seems it should have given in from the impact first.
guestbook link reminder for me
After the funeral, the church emptied. I honestly wasn't devastated as most people will not be if they are not that close or familiar with the deceased. I focused more on the opportunity to see close family members I realized I hadn't seen in ages. My older cousin Kendra who lives in Maryland now and will be moving to Africa for her husband's career soon. Her sister Laconas who moved to Lafayette. A few others.
Kimyetta and I hung together waiting for the "adults" who were driving to finally stop talking and follow the procession out to Bayou Goula cemetery. Kim and I are the younger girls in our immediate family circle, after Kendra and Connie. We hang out alot; she's basically a younger (15) sister to me.
The women in our family love to talk, and with the occassion at hand it was understandable. The procession had already left at this point and the drive to the cemetery would take a good 25 minutes.
Kimyetta's brother, had just gotten his first car a few days before. Impatient, he decided to take his own car to the cemetery though he would rather have ridden with someone else. The other twin brother was relegated to driving the family car with his mom and some other older women. I rode with my own mother and father, and of course Kim.
Last Friday was a fucking unusually gorgeous spring day.
There wasn't a lot of sunlight, but the weather was cozy with a great breeze. Standing in a cemetary surrounded only by cane fields romanticized everything a bit more. It's amazing how everything felt good despite the fact that we were at a funeral. I haven't personally had a day like that all year. On the ride to Bayou Goula, Kim, with a bit of my own sense of humor, made a crack about how the mortician actually looked like he was born for the job. Also, about where we would be meeting after we left the cemetery: "where is the thing being held, i don't want to call it an after-party... what do you call it?" My mom laughed; I suggested Kim just call it a "gathering."
Of course there were tears, but my immediate family circle was somewhat light-hearted, smiling, happy to see those we hadn't seen in too long. We stood together watching the casket lower and then the crowd disperse. I brushed Kim's hair into place after a breeze had disheveled it a bit. We began walking back to the cars, on our way back to the church for the gathering. Kim and I decided we were both hungry and ready to get back. The adults once again kept stopping on their way to the cars to chat.
My mom made about 3 attempts to the car, traveling less than 4 feet. I just stood waiting for her to finish conversation. Kim got bored and walked over to her twin brothers, who were talking with/consoling another cousin, the one who had just buried his grandmother. She called me over, "Alicia..come on!" I just walked to my parent's car and waited with my Dad who had started the engine a while ago. Mom finally came back to the car, and I then noticed Kimyetta and one brother, Jonathan, had already left for the church.
Driving back to Plaquemine on HWY 1, my mom and the other woman riding with us were discussing the services and how they would prefer their own to be, which honestly sounded too morbid even for me.
We saw a line of cars of the shoulder of the road about 3 minutes into the ride.
I thought that perhaps the house they were in front of was having a party, but then immediately my stomach dropped. It was weird how I could feel that something was wrong, specifically just for us.
It only took three seconds, from being curious about the stopped cars to seeing one black car wrapped like a ribbon along the trunk of a young thin tree.
I could see someone in a white shirt and black pants lying next to it.
We were out in the field for probably less than an hour. Of course it felt longer.
I had to leave my shoes in the highway because I couldn't run in the grass. I never got that close to Kimyetta, though I could make out her white oxford shirt and pants. I started running after my mom and Kim's mom, Rose, but saw my cousin Jason collapse in grass, crying. I stayed to hold him, someone had to be with him, he had possibly just lost both his twin brother and younger sister. We both fell in the grass crying. The cousin who had just buried his grandmother 10 minutes ago, the one that Kim and her brothers were consoling, sat with us, holding us both.
It was weird seeing the story on the news. Channel 9 news donated seconds to the story. A car carrying a boy and his younger sister crashed. The driver survived, but would be charged with vehicular homicide. The children were speeding and weren't wearing seatbelts. Next Segment.
I'd see stories like this on the news and would think that's really all there was to it.
Looking at the footage of the car, anyone can gather that it had been forced off the road.
There is no way a single driver could have done that. Kimyetta would yell at anyone who hadn't put on their seatbelt before the car even revved. Jonathan isn't reckless, especially with his sister in the car, especially traveling from a cemetery to a church.
Apparently another driver forced them off the road, while trying to pass them, merging directly into their lane, and probably had to have hit them for them to spin off the road.
And was bold enough to continue driving down Hwy 1, leaving the carnage behind him.
There's a lot more. Kimmie's funeral was Friday. Jonathan gave me his rose, since he was in a wheelchair, to lay on Kim's casket. I let Rose and Jason lay theirs down before me. Rose simply said, "Bye, Kim." I couldn't speak at all, I honestly felt ashamed for not being able to hold myself together for her mother.
On the drive back to Plaquemine I rode with my brother, my dad, my mom, and fred. My mom commented on how this was the first time in years we'd all been in a car together. I remember her saying earlier in the week how Kimmyetta was always the one to suggest family gatherings and trips; she always wanted to keep in touch with everyone, and how everyone was already together on the day she died.
I pointed out the spot where the wreck happened to Fred when we passed it. It's odd how that tree, a thin decorative one that i can wrap my hands around, was still standing untouched. It seems it should have given in from the impact first.
guestbook link reminder for me