who lives, who dies, who tells your story
Grandpa's funeral was today. I found out from his obit that I have 47 cousins on that side. Neen did this neat thing where she asked every child, grandchild, great-grandchild, and great-great grandchild to stand. She said that while we're alive, so is Grandpa. She even found a specky apple and put it on his casket with a photo of him as a kid along with the story of how he got the nickname "Speck". Father Kroger did two readings, one of which I read at Papa's funeral and chose for Granny's funeral. He talked about Abraham and such, which pissed off my cousin _____. He thought it was utterly disrespectful and that he could do a better job, "and I'm not even a Christian!" Well, neither am I, _____, but this priest has been with our family for about three decades. Talking about the patriarch of a nation is apropos at the funeral of a man with 48 grandkids. I adore Father Kroger. Today he essentially said evolution is real and the big bang happened, just deal with it because you can be Catholic and have science too. This man is 86 years old. An 86 year old Catholic priest says creationism and evolution aren't mutually exclusive. I truly love Father Kroger.
There weren't any fights. Mom diffused an almost-fight. Instead of fists flying, there is going to be an angry letter in the mail. Why was my aunt going to hit her aunt? The elder of the two said Grandpa didn't look like himself without his mutton chops (a true statement). This is the level of pettiness and dysfunction we deal with.
We are also hillbillies. It's not uncommon for someone who was cremated to be put into the coffin of a loved one. Cemeteries charge extra and you put the person in the urn's name on the headstone as well. UNLESS YOU ARE MY FAMILY. If you're my family, you request a special headstone: it doesn't have another name on it, just an etching of a bird. It doesn't cost any extra money. You also don't tell the cemetery that there's an urn in the coffin because you don't want to pay to inter 2 people (hence a robin instead of the name Robin on the headstone). I'm so tempted to make an anonymous call. But what are they going to do? Check? Here's the part that really pisses me off-- Noah had no say in his mother having an unmarked grave. Hillbillies.
Another hillbilly/redneck sign: I can only identify some of my cousins by their tattoos.
Bozo took off his oxygen mask so he could smoke. Yup. When his mask was on, I did a double-take because I thought he was Grandpa. He even had the mutton chops. They have different chins, though.
Of the 6 siblings able to clean up after the fire hazard amount of people in Charity Hall, it came down to the two we figured it would: Dad and Neen. Grandma birthed eight children; only two of them were born with the appropriate amount of sense. Jamen mopped, Max swept, I moved chairs, the menfolk took out trash. The thing is, the rest of them don't realize that they're being jerks by making assumptions. Neen planned everything at the funeral home (though Rick's girls did the picture boards, which were great) and Dad did everything at Charity Hall.
But now it's time for tears and stories. Dad told a "story" to just Mom and I tonight. It was that he's never heard Grandpa say n****r, even at the height of the local race riots when people said that black people would swim across the river and stab you in your sleep. Grandpa was funny about racism. He didn't yell at racists, but he made them feel ashamed. Grandma is racist and he would shut.her.down.
I think I'll miss holding his hand the most. I liked to just sit and hold his hand and put my head on his shoulder. He would tell corny jokes or stories, sometimes silly and sometimes serious. He was just so peaceful to be around.
I'm super tired, but there's a stink bug caught in my ceiling light that won't die and I'm afraid that it'll get out and fly into my mouth. I'm hoping its close proximity to a light that I won't be turning off will burn it to death.
There weren't any fights. Mom diffused an almost-fight. Instead of fists flying, there is going to be an angry letter in the mail. Why was my aunt going to hit her aunt? The elder of the two said Grandpa didn't look like himself without his mutton chops (a true statement). This is the level of pettiness and dysfunction we deal with.
We are also hillbillies. It's not uncommon for someone who was cremated to be put into the coffin of a loved one. Cemeteries charge extra and you put the person in the urn's name on the headstone as well. UNLESS YOU ARE MY FAMILY. If you're my family, you request a special headstone: it doesn't have another name on it, just an etching of a bird. It doesn't cost any extra money. You also don't tell the cemetery that there's an urn in the coffin because you don't want to pay to inter 2 people (hence a robin instead of the name Robin on the headstone). I'm so tempted to make an anonymous call. But what are they going to do? Check? Here's the part that really pisses me off-- Noah had no say in his mother having an unmarked grave. Hillbillies.
Another hillbilly/redneck sign: I can only identify some of my cousins by their tattoos.
Bozo took off his oxygen mask so he could smoke. Yup. When his mask was on, I did a double-take because I thought he was Grandpa. He even had the mutton chops. They have different chins, though.
Of the 6 siblings able to clean up after the fire hazard amount of people in Charity Hall, it came down to the two we figured it would: Dad and Neen. Grandma birthed eight children; only two of them were born with the appropriate amount of sense. Jamen mopped, Max swept, I moved chairs, the menfolk took out trash. The thing is, the rest of them don't realize that they're being jerks by making assumptions. Neen planned everything at the funeral home (though Rick's girls did the picture boards, which were great) and Dad did everything at Charity Hall.
But now it's time for tears and stories. Dad told a "story" to just Mom and I tonight. It was that he's never heard Grandpa say n****r, even at the height of the local race riots when people said that black people would swim across the river and stab you in your sleep. Grandpa was funny about racism. He didn't yell at racists, but he made them feel ashamed. Grandma is racist and he would shut.her.down.
I think I'll miss holding his hand the most. I liked to just sit and hold his hand and put my head on his shoulder. He would tell corny jokes or stories, sometimes silly and sometimes serious. He was just so peaceful to be around.
I'm super tired, but there's a stink bug caught in my ceiling light that won't die and I'm afraid that it'll get out and fly into my mouth. I'm hoping its close proximity to a light that I won't be turning off will burn it to death.