The funeral
We had to get up bright and early on Monday, cause Andrew's funeral was at 9:30...a very un-Andrew like hour. Kenji, Amy, and I were his only friends there, the rest were family. We sat towards the back of the group. I liked the church alright; it had a pretty blue stained glass window over the altar, and I spent a lot of time staring at it. Before the service, I kept looking around to try and figure out who was who, but I really had no clue, cause I'd never met any of Andrew's family before. Then, it started. Since I hadn't seen the casket up at the front of the church when we got there, I just figured that it wouldn't be there. Then, I realized that they were bringing it in in a procession. His casket was very impressive...it must of cost a lot of money. It was a kind of grey-blue color, and it was made out of metal. As they brought him down the aisle, I started crying...a lot. In fact all three of us friends were crying...a lot. Once they had gotten Andrew's casket to the front of the church, the mass began, and it didn't take long for me to realize what the theme was. Even though I believe that they're wrong, Andrew's family thinks that he killed himself. If you're Catholic, suicide is the big sin that can't be forgiven (or at least it was back when I was a Christian). So, the priest kept going on about the fact that since Andrew had been baptized as a baby, it didn't matter so much how sinful he was during his life, but that we should pray for him anyway and hope that he will go to heaven, and that maybe he'd make it in on the coattails of his god fearing family. The analogy of Andrew as a dumb, lost sheep, and Jesus as the shepherd who takes care of him, even though he is dumb and lost and doesn't deserve it, was almost too much for me. I concidered walking out, but I stayed out of respect to his family. When the sermon was done, they had communion. I actually went up...I can't remember how many years it's been since I did that last. I think the main reason was cause I wanted to be nearer to Andrew's casket. After that came the recession, and more tears. As we were exiting, the organist was singing something in what I think was Italian, and I knew that Andrew would have liked that.
Next, it was off to Gate of Heaven cemetary in Los Gatos for the burial. Andrew's bother said a kind of eulogy. As he was going along, I realized that he was saying the exact same things about Andrew that I had told him a couple days before when I'd spoken to him on the phone. Oh well, that was the good part of his speach, and I was enjoying it, until he started going off about Jesus this and Jesus that. He went on and on, with some kind of born again spiel, until at last he was done (I think everyone else there was glad when it was over too). For a conclusion, first his family placed red roses on top of his coffin, and then anyone else who wanted to could do the same. Kenji and Amy went up, but I couldn't cause I was way to upset to move, so just stood there, crying hard. I thought they would lower Andrew into his grave while we were all there, but they didn't. I wish they had; it would have made it seem more complete.
After the burial, we went over to Andrew's grandparents' house. We didn't stay too long, cause Amy and I felt awkward there with all those people that we didn't know. I did, however get to meet Andrew's dad, and spoke for a while with his eldest first cousin. I really wanted to ask the family questions about the cicumstances of Andrew's death, but didn't feel like I could just walk up to someone I didn't know and ask questions like that. Before leaving, I talked with Andrew's aunt. She seemed pretty nice, and I felt comfortable enough to ask her if the people who found Andrew in the hotel room had also found any pills left in the bottle. She said that there were in fact pills found at the scene...I take that as proof that it was an accidental overdose. Even if he didn't leave a note, surely he would have taken ALL the pills if he were trying to end his life. She wasn't convinced, however. It doesn't really make any difference to me if it was an accident or not; he's gone either way. I wish I could have convinced his family, but that's just the way it goes, I guess.
So, now I have my memories of fond times spent with Andrew. I remeber him yelling out car windows to passerbyers, "Free Palestine. Show us your tits!" Or that time he insisted on doorbell ditching on Dolores St, cause he was drunk and it seemed like a good idea to him. I remember the different inflections of Sunny saying, "Mandrew. Maaannndreww, and, Mandrew?" And how can I forget Andrew making fun of young hipsters by saying that they were Strokes fans, and taking the piss out of the yuppies by calling out to them on the street, "Bougie ass motherfuckers!"
I'm going to miss him.
Next, it was off to Gate of Heaven cemetary in Los Gatos for the burial. Andrew's bother said a kind of eulogy. As he was going along, I realized that he was saying the exact same things about Andrew that I had told him a couple days before when I'd spoken to him on the phone. Oh well, that was the good part of his speach, and I was enjoying it, until he started going off about Jesus this and Jesus that. He went on and on, with some kind of born again spiel, until at last he was done (I think everyone else there was glad when it was over too). For a conclusion, first his family placed red roses on top of his coffin, and then anyone else who wanted to could do the same. Kenji and Amy went up, but I couldn't cause I was way to upset to move, so just stood there, crying hard. I thought they would lower Andrew into his grave while we were all there, but they didn't. I wish they had; it would have made it seem more complete.
After the burial, we went over to Andrew's grandparents' house. We didn't stay too long, cause Amy and I felt awkward there with all those people that we didn't know. I did, however get to meet Andrew's dad, and spoke for a while with his eldest first cousin. I really wanted to ask the family questions about the cicumstances of Andrew's death, but didn't feel like I could just walk up to someone I didn't know and ask questions like that. Before leaving, I talked with Andrew's aunt. She seemed pretty nice, and I felt comfortable enough to ask her if the people who found Andrew in the hotel room had also found any pills left in the bottle. She said that there were in fact pills found at the scene...I take that as proof that it was an accidental overdose. Even if he didn't leave a note, surely he would have taken ALL the pills if he were trying to end his life. She wasn't convinced, however. It doesn't really make any difference to me if it was an accident or not; he's gone either way. I wish I could have convinced his family, but that's just the way it goes, I guess.
So, now I have my memories of fond times spent with Andrew. I remeber him yelling out car windows to passerbyers, "Free Palestine. Show us your tits!" Or that time he insisted on doorbell ditching on Dolores St, cause he was drunk and it seemed like a good idea to him. I remember the different inflections of Sunny saying, "Mandrew. Maaannndreww, and, Mandrew?" And how can I forget Andrew making fun of young hipsters by saying that they were Strokes fans, and taking the piss out of the yuppies by calling out to them on the street, "Bougie ass motherfuckers!"
I'm going to miss him.