The decree has gone forth that I can tarry no longer.
"I don't think I'd like a regular funeral when I die. It's hardly dramatic enough. I mean, it's just flowers and people crying. Rather tacky, really."
"Well, what do you expect? They're saying goodbye."
"It's just too quiet and calm."
"Death is quiet and calm."
"I don't think it would be. I think death would be... something that moved a lot. Something huge and complicated, way more complicated than this. Something with thousands of pieces that fit together perfectly, like a puzzle. When you look at a single piece, it doesn't make sense, but when the last piece fits it, it all makes sense."
Well, every carefree daze, no matter how euphoric, has to come to a halt sometime I suppose. And today was a very sobering moment after several weeks of anything-but.
Today was the one year anniversary of my grandfathers death and... well... when you're praying over someone's grave, it's much harder to pretend that they're just down staying at their house in Mississippi. I hate the feeling of his being gone for good, but I suppose pretending doesn't work forever.
We spent the entire day with my grandmother, and did a whole lot of the things which we had always done with Grandpa Bill, which made it a good day, at the same time as being a terrible day.
First we went to mass, of course, at St. Michaels. The one thing that can be said for Masses of the Dead, is that the readings and prayers are beautiful. Afterwards we all went and had a huge italian meal- and it wasn't nearly as good as the one's grandpa used to make, but there aren't very many chefs as good as him; so we don't really expect it. We ate, and we drank, and we told stories about grandpa and it was just really nice. I think uncle Jim may be starting to grow on me. It just annoys me that he tries so hard to be like his dad... but he's not, because grandpa was never a jerk. But Uncle Jim seems to be getting better.
After our meal we all went to the cemetery, and my mom and her sisters led prayers for the souls in purgatory.
Grammy at first hadn't wanted to have anybody over to her house, but in the end all her children came, and a handful of grandchildren- and I think it was good. We all talked and laughed and remembered together, and I was glad she didn't have to be alone.
The lot of us spent a few hours together, and did the best we could to remember Grandpa.. which of course meant Gram went up into the linen closet and brought down a few of his more prized drinks.
In one night, my uncle introduced me to two things I would had never even dreampt of consuming in my entire life.
Grand Marnier- a Cognac from 1827 that was unearthed in a long buried french wine cellar year and years ago. It was like drinking velvet- no wonder people are willing to pay $60 for a single shot.
And then there was the Absinthe. I think my tongue may still be numb from that one, but at least I'm not blind or anything.
Grampa Bill was the heart of our family, and gave life to us as a whole. Him not being there seems almost... impossible. Everytime I heard a story about him tonight I found myself looking over at his chair, ready to hear a confirmation of it from him himself. It was actually rather funny- Uncle Jim sat down in the chair and about 3 rolls of thunder crashed. I wonder if thats a good sign?
I hope so.
I really really hope so.
Sequence for the Burial Mass
Nigher still, and still for Nigh,
Draws the day of prophecy
Doomed to melt the earth and sky.
Oh what trembling there shall be
When the world it's Judge shall see,
Coming in dread majesty!
Hark the trump with thrilling tone
From sepulchral regions lone
Summons all before the throne:
Time and Death it doth appall
To see the buries ages all
Rise to answer at the call
Now the books are open spread
Now the writing must be read
Which condemns the quick and dead:
Now, before The Judge sever
Hidden things must all appear.
Naught can pass unpunished here.
I then, guilty, what shall plead?
Who for me will intercede,
When the saints shall comfort need?
King of dreadful majesty,
Who doth freely justify
Font of pity, save thou me!
Recollect, o Lord divine,
'Twas for this lost sheep of Thine
Thou Thy glory didst resign;
sattest wearied seeking me;
Sufferest upon the tree:
Let not vain Thy labor be.
Judge of Justice, hear my prayer;
Spare me, Lord, in mercy spare.
Ere the reckoning day appear.
Lo, Thy gracious face I seek,
Shame and grief are on my cheek.
Sighs and tears my sorrows speak.
Thou didst Mary's guilt forgive;
Didst the dying thief receive;
Hence doth hope within me live.
Worthless are my prayers, I know,
Yet o cause me not to go
Into everlasting woe.
Severed from the guilty band,
Make me with Thy sheep to stand.
Placing me at Thy right hand,
When the cursed in anguish flee
Into flames of misery,
With the blest then call Thou me.
Suppliant in the dust I lie;
My heart a cinder crushed and dry.
Help me, Lord, when death is nigh.
Full of tears, and full of dread,
Is the day that wakes the dead.
Calling all with solemn blast
From the ashes of the past.
Lord of mercy, Jesus blest, grant the faithful light and rest
"Well, what do you expect? They're saying goodbye."
"It's just too quiet and calm."
"Death is quiet and calm."
"I don't think it would be. I think death would be... something that moved a lot. Something huge and complicated, way more complicated than this. Something with thousands of pieces that fit together perfectly, like a puzzle. When you look at a single piece, it doesn't make sense, but when the last piece fits it, it all makes sense."
Well, every carefree daze, no matter how euphoric, has to come to a halt sometime I suppose. And today was a very sobering moment after several weeks of anything-but.
Today was the one year anniversary of my grandfathers death and... well... when you're praying over someone's grave, it's much harder to pretend that they're just down staying at their house in Mississippi. I hate the feeling of his being gone for good, but I suppose pretending doesn't work forever.
We spent the entire day with my grandmother, and did a whole lot of the things which we had always done with Grandpa Bill, which made it a good day, at the same time as being a terrible day.
First we went to mass, of course, at St. Michaels. The one thing that can be said for Masses of the Dead, is that the readings and prayers are beautiful. Afterwards we all went and had a huge italian meal- and it wasn't nearly as good as the one's grandpa used to make, but there aren't very many chefs as good as him; so we don't really expect it. We ate, and we drank, and we told stories about grandpa and it was just really nice. I think uncle Jim may be starting to grow on me. It just annoys me that he tries so hard to be like his dad... but he's not, because grandpa was never a jerk. But Uncle Jim seems to be getting better.
After our meal we all went to the cemetery, and my mom and her sisters led prayers for the souls in purgatory.
Grammy at first hadn't wanted to have anybody over to her house, but in the end all her children came, and a handful of grandchildren- and I think it was good. We all talked and laughed and remembered together, and I was glad she didn't have to be alone.
The lot of us spent a few hours together, and did the best we could to remember Grandpa.. which of course meant Gram went up into the linen closet and brought down a few of his more prized drinks.
In one night, my uncle introduced me to two things I would had never even dreampt of consuming in my entire life.
Grand Marnier- a Cognac from 1827 that was unearthed in a long buried french wine cellar year and years ago. It was like drinking velvet- no wonder people are willing to pay $60 for a single shot.
And then there was the Absinthe. I think my tongue may still be numb from that one, but at least I'm not blind or anything.
Grampa Bill was the heart of our family, and gave life to us as a whole. Him not being there seems almost... impossible. Everytime I heard a story about him tonight I found myself looking over at his chair, ready to hear a confirmation of it from him himself. It was actually rather funny- Uncle Jim sat down in the chair and about 3 rolls of thunder crashed. I wonder if thats a good sign?
I hope so.
I really really hope so.
Sequence for the Burial Mass
Nigher still, and still for Nigh,
Draws the day of prophecy
Doomed to melt the earth and sky.
Oh what trembling there shall be
When the world it's Judge shall see,
Coming in dread majesty!
Hark the trump with thrilling tone
From sepulchral regions lone
Summons all before the throne:
Time and Death it doth appall
To see the buries ages all
Rise to answer at the call
Now the books are open spread
Now the writing must be read
Which condemns the quick and dead:
Now, before The Judge sever
Hidden things must all appear.
Naught can pass unpunished here.
I then, guilty, what shall plead?
Who for me will intercede,
When the saints shall comfort need?
King of dreadful majesty,
Who doth freely justify
Font of pity, save thou me!
Recollect, o Lord divine,
'Twas for this lost sheep of Thine
Thou Thy glory didst resign;
sattest wearied seeking me;
Sufferest upon the tree:
Let not vain Thy labor be.
Judge of Justice, hear my prayer;
Spare me, Lord, in mercy spare.
Ere the reckoning day appear.
Lo, Thy gracious face I seek,
Shame and grief are on my cheek.
Sighs and tears my sorrows speak.
Thou didst Mary's guilt forgive;
Didst the dying thief receive;
Hence doth hope within me live.
Worthless are my prayers, I know,
Yet o cause me not to go
Into everlasting woe.
Severed from the guilty band,
Make me with Thy sheep to stand.
Placing me at Thy right hand,
When the cursed in anguish flee
Into flames of misery,
With the blest then call Thou me.
Suppliant in the dust I lie;
My heart a cinder crushed and dry.
Help me, Lord, when death is nigh.
Full of tears, and full of dread,
Is the day that wakes the dead.
Calling all with solemn blast
From the ashes of the past.
Lord of mercy, Jesus blest, grant the faithful light and rest