Reagan's State Funeral
I haven't done a lot online this week because I've been watching former President Reagan's state funeral on TV. No one else in my age bracket seems to care about this- nobody I know here except my mother seems to think it's in any way interesting- but I thought it was kind of cool.
Not, you know, cool in the sense that somebody died, but cool in the sense that I've never seen a US state funeral before, and it was...sort of neat.
I remember getting up very early in the morning one day years and years ago, to watch Princess Diana's state funeral after she died. I was a huge Princess Di fan, was fascinated by her, loathed Prince Charles on her behalf. (Come to think of it, I'm still not fond of Prince Charles...)
But I'd never seen a United States one before. My mother is old enough to have seen Kennedy's- I, of course, am not. So this was the kind of thing I thought I should watch.
The sheer size of it all... It was just mesmerizing to watch. The biggest motorcades I'd ever seen, and then the funeral procession, with the horses and the military everywhere, and the casket on the caisson... What got me most, though, was the riderless horse, with the boots backward in the stirrups. They used a pair of Reagan's own riding boots.
There were lots of guns, and military bands, and a cannon. They seemed very fond of the canon, as they used it a couple times. And I lost count of how many times I heard "Battle Hymn of the Republic" from the band, but it was a lot. A lot. Plus the old standards, "Hail to the Chief" and "God Bless America". Oh, and the national anthem, and "America the Beautiful".
Thursday, I watched C-SPAN, which is what we get when you turn the cable box off around here, and saw all these people walking past the casket at the Capitol, thousands and thousands of them. I didn't watch that very long because it was kind of boring, but the number of people passing by was pretty amazing.
Yesterday, I rolled out of bed at 7:00 to watch the funeral at the National Cathedral. I'd forgotten how huge that place was- but I last saw it on a West Wing episode, and I've never been there or anything, so... yeah. I know almost nothing about Christian ceremony, except for a couple verses of Amazing Grace, and bits of the really popular prayers, so I was pretty confused for parts of the service. But I'm glad the family and so many of his friends have this faith to hold onto right now- I'm told it helps.
Even without it, you can figure that he's much better off.
I didn't talk about it much, but my great-grandfather who died last year had Alzheimer's. He went to a home because that was what he wanted, a decision I was secretly grateful for. I'd heard stories about how hard it was for people to care for a relative with Alzheimer's in their homes, how draining it was, and I didn't want to see my grandparents go through that. (Yes, I bitch about them a lot, but I do love them, really.)
So we visited him there- not as often as we could have, but it was hard to see him. For a while after he started to forget our names, he still recognized us as familiar, and everything I've read says that for as long as that goes on, having familiar people around helps. He wasn't sure who we were, but he was sure we were okay. And we were to be hugged. He met us with open arms for a while.
But then even that slipped away, and he hardly noticed us when we were there. It had been years since I'd had a real conversation with my great-grandfather, years since he asked me about school or showed me pictures of his wife, my great-grandmother, and we remembered the garden she had and how I used to write letters asking how her flowers were growing. (I'm still not sure she could read my atrocious handwriting, but I'm told she enjoyed those letters a lot, shared them with her friends...)
It was hard. I didn't see him every day, or even every week- though the day he died, Mom and I had just been saying we thought we should go more often, because the end was clearly coming- and it was still hard.
So I feel for the Reagan family a lot right now. I know what it's like to watch someone you love, who used to be full of life- and gods, so funny- drift away. I've heard a lot this week that they call Alzheimer's the Long Goodbye. It really, really is.
And it sucks. I was relieved when my great-grandfather died, because at least it was over. And the man I'd met when he was so full of life, wouldn't have wanted to be like that.
So I was watching the private service the family had at the Reagan library in California last night on TV with my mother, and I really felt for what Reagan's three children were saying. The best part, though, was the story his daughter told about when one of her goldfish had died. Her father helped her bury it and explained that the fish was in heaven now, where it could swim forever and never get tired, and always be happy. And she suggested killing her other fish so that it, too, could experience this.
I laughed so hard I cried.
And then, of course, I burst into tears a bit later, when poor Nancy Reagan broke down over the casket. Which was photographed by tons of reporters, and has been played on TV over and over and over again. Some people really deserve to be smacked upside the head, possibly with one of those guns from the numerous twenty-one gun salutes. Because hello, I know it's historic and all, but have some bloody respect, you know?
Also, major props to Margaret Thatcher, who rocks. She sang along with our national anthem at the California funeral. And her a Brit, and all. Plus she had really cool John Lennon shades, which I kind of wanted to steal.
Not, you know, cool in the sense that somebody died, but cool in the sense that I've never seen a US state funeral before, and it was...sort of neat.
I remember getting up very early in the morning one day years and years ago, to watch Princess Diana's state funeral after she died. I was a huge Princess Di fan, was fascinated by her, loathed Prince Charles on her behalf. (Come to think of it, I'm still not fond of Prince Charles...)
But I'd never seen a United States one before. My mother is old enough to have seen Kennedy's- I, of course, am not. So this was the kind of thing I thought I should watch.
The sheer size of it all... It was just mesmerizing to watch. The biggest motorcades I'd ever seen, and then the funeral procession, with the horses and the military everywhere, and the casket on the caisson... What got me most, though, was the riderless horse, with the boots backward in the stirrups. They used a pair of Reagan's own riding boots.
There were lots of guns, and military bands, and a cannon. They seemed very fond of the canon, as they used it a couple times. And I lost count of how many times I heard "Battle Hymn of the Republic" from the band, but it was a lot. A lot. Plus the old standards, "Hail to the Chief" and "God Bless America". Oh, and the national anthem, and "America the Beautiful".
Thursday, I watched C-SPAN, which is what we get when you turn the cable box off around here, and saw all these people walking past the casket at the Capitol, thousands and thousands of them. I didn't watch that very long because it was kind of boring, but the number of people passing by was pretty amazing.
Yesterday, I rolled out of bed at 7:00 to watch the funeral at the National Cathedral. I'd forgotten how huge that place was- but I last saw it on a West Wing episode, and I've never been there or anything, so... yeah. I know almost nothing about Christian ceremony, except for a couple verses of Amazing Grace, and bits of the really popular prayers, so I was pretty confused for parts of the service. But I'm glad the family and so many of his friends have this faith to hold onto right now- I'm told it helps.
Even without it, you can figure that he's much better off.
I didn't talk about it much, but my great-grandfather who died last year had Alzheimer's. He went to a home because that was what he wanted, a decision I was secretly grateful for. I'd heard stories about how hard it was for people to care for a relative with Alzheimer's in their homes, how draining it was, and I didn't want to see my grandparents go through that. (Yes, I bitch about them a lot, but I do love them, really.)
So we visited him there- not as often as we could have, but it was hard to see him. For a while after he started to forget our names, he still recognized us as familiar, and everything I've read says that for as long as that goes on, having familiar people around helps. He wasn't sure who we were, but he was sure we were okay. And we were to be hugged. He met us with open arms for a while.
But then even that slipped away, and he hardly noticed us when we were there. It had been years since I'd had a real conversation with my great-grandfather, years since he asked me about school or showed me pictures of his wife, my great-grandmother, and we remembered the garden she had and how I used to write letters asking how her flowers were growing. (I'm still not sure she could read my atrocious handwriting, but I'm told she enjoyed those letters a lot, shared them with her friends...)
It was hard. I didn't see him every day, or even every week- though the day he died, Mom and I had just been saying we thought we should go more often, because the end was clearly coming- and it was still hard.
So I feel for the Reagan family a lot right now. I know what it's like to watch someone you love, who used to be full of life- and gods, so funny- drift away. I've heard a lot this week that they call Alzheimer's the Long Goodbye. It really, really is.
And it sucks. I was relieved when my great-grandfather died, because at least it was over. And the man I'd met when he was so full of life, wouldn't have wanted to be like that.
So I was watching the private service the family had at the Reagan library in California last night on TV with my mother, and I really felt for what Reagan's three children were saying. The best part, though, was the story his daughter told about when one of her goldfish had died. Her father helped her bury it and explained that the fish was in heaven now, where it could swim forever and never get tired, and always be happy. And she suggested killing her other fish so that it, too, could experience this.
I laughed so hard I cried.
And then, of course, I burst into tears a bit later, when poor Nancy Reagan broke down over the casket. Which was photographed by tons of reporters, and has been played on TV over and over and over again. Some people really deserve to be smacked upside the head, possibly with one of those guns from the numerous twenty-one gun salutes. Because hello, I know it's historic and all, but have some bloody respect, you know?
Also, major props to Margaret Thatcher, who rocks. She sang along with our national anthem at the California funeral. And her a Brit, and all. Plus she had really cool John Lennon shades, which I kind of wanted to steal.