Sheesh, I need to update more often...
So Monday and Tuesday were the wake/funeral, I guess that's what they're called. I was surprised to see how good my Grandfather looked, he looked so serene, so peaceful, he looked like he was just sleeping. (Which he was when he had passed away, my Grandmother had to wait for my Father to come down and see him before the ambulance came. My Dad said he looked exactly like he was sleeping, eyes closed, mouth open, just as if he was passed out. Typical male from the Lucas family :P. I held together very well for the two days, it was just at the last minute that it finally hit me. The priest was talking about him leaving his body behind and having his soul lifted up... or something to that effect. It was a reality then and as I went up one last time to pay my respects I just started bawling. Not loudly, but I was definitely crying. We then went in the limo to the mausoleum and on the way there I was okay, I had calmed down enough to realize we were breaking every law of the road, haha. We went through a nice handful of stop signs, ignored the traffic lights... I asked my mom and she said when there is a funeral procession then all traffic is to yield to the procession. Which is nice if you think about it, the people in the procession get to where they need to be sooner, and in a way the people who are yielding are paying their respects, even if they don't know it. Unfortunately that was my first time in a limo, and I would have rather not had that experience in that way. But I'm sure my Grandfather wouldn't want me to think of it in a negative aspect, more of a "You got to do it with your family" type of thing instead of doing it with friends.
The whole two days were full of the Italian family I've always known existed but have never seen. If before this week I had been shaky on how to address any family member, I think I've got it down. It goes a little something like this- 1. Grab their hand, (men to men shake, men to women grab loosely, almost like you're about to dance). 2. Pull them in. 3. Slap a kiss on their cheek. [The older they are, the messier it will be :P]. 4. Administer a nice big hug. 5. Finally, step back, look each other over, and you'll most likely hear something to the tune of "My God, you've grown so much. You're tall! You're BEATUIFUL!" ... That's how it all goes, haha. I heard it about 30 times in those two days. It's rather scary how a lot of us looked somewhat alike. I think my Grandfather and his two brothers look more and more alike as they get older, and I do look like one of my cousins Jennifer. We're both have long brunette hair with lighter highlights, we're somewhat tall for girls, and curvy. It's weird, very weird.
So after the second day we went out to dinner at a place called Mariner's Harbor in Kingston. It's this seafood place, a little pricey, but seafood always is. My plate was absolutely delicious, and I was able to have FRIES, haha. Seafood and fries, best dinner ever. The only reason I hate going out to dinner is because if you go to a really nice place they feed you a meal BEFORE your actual meal, and it's so annoying! Haha. But we never eat out, so it was a nice change. My dad said he saw a big bird, almost eagle like, if not an eagle (which I doubt it was, but don't tell him that) flying around while we ate, and I guess birds flying after a funeral is a sign to some people that the deceased is around? I'm not sure, I didn't think to ask. But I'm sure he was, my Grandfather loved to eat :P.
Speaking of the deceased being around. We were talking about how my Grandfather had quite the sense of humor, and throughout the day it seemed as if he was trying to lighten things up. As we were getting ready my parents were bickering and the power went out, it was supposedly associated with a place called Fultonville, which doesn't sound familiar so it has to be far away. But I personally believe it was my Grandfather being funny, telling my parents to stop acting like children and that it wasn't a day for them to be bickering. Then, my Aunt said my Grandfather had always bugged her to quit smoking and the second she stepped outside of the funeral parlor to light up it started to pour, right on her, haha. I personally do believe that was him. I've always been one to look for signs, because I think certain signs have meaning, so I'm constantly looking for them, and hopefully he'll constantly be sending down quirky little things like that.
Anyway, back to the story, haha. After we ate we had returned to the mausoleum to check on him and make sure everything was cleaned up and he was in his "crypt" as my father called it, (I'm not sure if that's the right word, but I'll use it for now) and he was. They had all of the flowers around the base and it looked beautiful. Finally after seeing him in the mausoleum one last time we returned to my Grandmother's house and helped her unload everything and clean up a little bit. The funeral director sent home the prayer cards and I started by taking one of each "picture" even though there were only two separate prayers for the cards, haha. It was like getting trading cards, I wanted one of each. I don't know what in the world I'd do with all 9, which is such a random number, they couldn't find one more picture to satisfy me and my OCD? :P Then my brother and father followed suit, copycats... Haha.
It was hard for us as a family to lose someone that close to us, he was definitely one "unique man" as my father said, not anything someone could reproduce in a single memory, word, or thought. But we know he wasn't completely happy where he was in life. He was adventurous and he wanted to be out there in the world, which he couldn't be because he was stuck in a wheelchair, and constantly needed the assistance of his oxygen tank. We all know he's in a better place and we'll still love him, nothing can change that. <3