Preparing to go to Thompson for another funeral.
It's strange. I don't feel sad, but feel like I'm part of routine. Not to say that I have first hand experience on handeling a funeral, just that this won't be my first and definately won't be my last.
Since even before my brother passed away, I have seen the makings of a funeral. When I was young, my dad took me to a funeral that I think was one of his uncles. It was the viewing of the body. I don't remember if I was asked or not, but I went up with my dad to view the body. The uncle must have been a minister or something because he was dressed in a white robe and held a bible. I remember my dad leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. I don't remember if I touched the body or not..but I think I did. Only patting his hands.
I remember being told that my grandmother ( dad's mom) was happy to see us children there. It was then I started to glimpse what just being there meant. Even though you may not want to be there.., your presence might just bring a smile to someone else.
( I will say, that I wasn't that well behaved at this point in time. I was still alittle too bold. At one point I fell asleep during the service and was lying on my own lap and when my mother nudged me to wake, I had discovered that my gum at stuck to my pants. Needless to say I learned my lesson.)
My second funeral was my brother's. Most of that time was a blur. I just know I could have handled things better, but grief makes you do..silly things. (year 2000)
Since then, I have had an issue or two with my own personal relationship with God. I have still not sorted out my feelings. Slowly, I am beginning to feel like my brother's passing wasn't a punishment or even a test of strength. Sometimes I like to think that it's just the way life goes. At the time, my brother had a girlfriend. Since then she has moved on, married, and has two beautiful daughters. If you think about it, if my brother had stayed, these two little girls wouldn't be here. Would I trade them for him? Never.
It's just the way life goes, when life ends, another is made.
Shortly after my brother's passing, a few months later my grandfather passed away. (my dad's dad). I don't remember much of that time either, only that I felt more anger at God.
I only have two solid memories of that time. My dad on the phone telling someone that there was another death in the family. (this is a moment I look back on when trying to use appropiate words while talking about sensative issues)
The other memory was at the church, my little cousin who was at the time being raised by my grandparents. I remember his head lying in his arms in a pew, being comforted by his mother, and other uncles.
After that, I didn't think it could keep going, this surely must be the darkest time. And I think it was. But I thought it meant the death would stop.
A few years later my uncle died ( my dad's brother). At this time I could only think what my dad was feeling. I don't think I ever saw him cry. Though I'm certain he did. The death came upon a few days before my birthday. My aunt's b day was just before mine, so after coming home from the wake, someone had bought a cake. And put happy b day to me and my aunt. It was this time that my birthday stopped becoming too important to me. I realized it was just a day, a day I happened to be born.
But like I said before, that's just life. A friendly reminder..
Though I didn't attend the other two funerals to come, I was still affected.
( As children, my siblings and I befriended other children on our street, naturally. My other brother was best friends with a girl next door - whom will call Linda. And my late brother was best friends with the girl's brother - whom we will call Ben. And sometimes I would play with Linda. And next door to them, were more children our ages. Jane was friends with My late brother and Ben. Tom was friends with my other brother and I.)
Since all our backyards connected, you can imaging it was like having one big backyard.) Death would come to these famillies too..
Young Tom would be in an accident that would take his own gf and another friend.
I did not attend this funeral, but my brother did.
A few years later, Linda and Ben's mother would pass away from cancer. I remember being at work while I was told. I remember going to the bathroom to cry. But knowing that no one could replace my position at the time, I stayed at work.
It was only that previous summer the last time I talked with Linda and Ben's mother.
She was on her stoop. And I had come home from a walk. She called me over and we talked breifly catching up on eachother's news. I knew she had been sick, but was told she was getting better. Sometimes not knowing the details.....makes for a strange moment. While in the bathroom crying..I remembered her on the stoop. Among her garden..which as a child I would steal from. So silly now..
I did not attend this funeral, but my parents did.
And this past thanksgiving, my grandmother passed away. (my mom's mom.) Though I had been told of her limited time several months before, so her passing was not a shock. It was another funeral. Older, wiser, and more aware, I started to notice the comings and goings of a funeral. I thought I would not cry, but I did. It hurts to see the men in your family cry.
And now..another funeral. Though this is different, a great grandfather, whom I don't think I ever met. But who I know was very dear to my mother. (her grandfather)
I'm thinking that when this is done, I will begin my own look into the makings of a funeral. Lord knows..with this track record..I will need to know sooner than later.
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Current Music: Roads - Portishead
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