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funeral, part deux
August 25, 2014
funeral, part deux
Worked my hinder off Thursday night and Friday after work to make sure we were ready to go. Laundry, housework, dropping off B, and even shopping for the supplies and personally creating the flower arrangements for the cemetery. I did one for my grandparents, one for my little brother, a spray for my great-aunt (she has a bud vase on her stone), and--of course--one for Mom. I picked up everything I needed at the dollar store, but that allowed me to do really good arrangements for $25.00 They all came out beautifully. Unfortunately, I managed to burn the hell out of the tip of my left index finger with the hot glue gun. Quite inconvenient, considering I am a leftie.
I did a bronze-colored metal pot with green ferns, yellow flowers and an apple-green sheer bow for Grandpa and Grandma, a miniature flower can with burgundy and purple flowers and burgundy satin streamers for my brother (I always do his in bright, strong colors), a spray of the same burgundy flowers and ribbons for my aunt, and for mom, I used an oval-shaped galvanized tin container painted with delicate pastel flowers and a butterfly, and did the arrangement in rose-pink pom-pom mums, accent flowers in a complementary shade of burgundy, and surrounded by a ring of rosebud caladium. I put a simple white satin bow on that one. I was channeling Mom--I got all those done, from shopping to finished product, in under 3 hours.
Once I had all my errands, chores and packing done, I was able to get myself shaved and pop into the shower, throw on some comfy traveling clothes, and actually sit down for a few minutes before Spouse called to say he was almost home & meet him out front.
Spouse picked me up and we dashed out to Enterprise. I picked up the rental car, and we both zipped back to the house. Put the luggage and flowers in the trunk of the rental and set off. Got in about 10:00pm; it was steaming hot and muggy in Iowa, and too late to get anything decent to eat. Yep. 10:00pm on a Friday, in a town of 22,000 people, and the choices were fast food or BWW. Or, what we did--ran to the grocery store and bought microwaveables, and took them back to the room. I'd been too busy and Spouse was having stomach issues, so neither of us had eaten much all day, otherwise we probably would have skipped it. I had Stouffer's mac & cheese, he had a bowl of Campbell's tomato soup and some oyster crackers. Thank goodness Hamptons have microwaves and fridges in all the rooms!
After we ate, we hit the hay. I slept fine, if briefly. Only got about 6 hours. Spouse said I snored, and he hardly slept at all. But he always says that! He went down to the breakfast thingy in the lobby, then came up to put on his trunks for the hot tub. I asked him if he would go down and get me coffee, so he grabbed the tray under the ice bucket and said he'd be right back.
He not only brought me a coffee--he brought me TWO coffees. The way I like them. And a bowl of fresh fruit, two small muffins, and a hard-boiled egg! He can be such a sweetie!
He stuck around while I ate it, then we both went downstairs and took advantage of the hot tub and pool. That particular hotel has a very well-kept pool, and I had it to myself, so I really enjoyed it. When the pool attendant came in, I made sure I told him so. He seemed pretty happy to get the feedback!
Once we'd refreshed ourselves with some aquatherapy, we went back up to get ready for the trip to the cemetery. And as we proceeded to do so, a gigantic, violent thunderstorm hit. It looked like a hurricane. Black skies, high winds, sheets of water, lights blinking in and out--real wrath of god stuff. I was getting concerned, but it eventually blew past and calmed down. It was still very overcast, drippy-humid, and generally miserable, though.
We did our usual "get lost trying to find the cemetery in the cornfields" thing, but still got there a little early. My old Sunday-school teacher was there already--sitting in her truck with her nose in a book, adorably. She only lives a little ways down the road, though. I was glad to be early, because it gave me a chance to put my flowers out without feeling weird. Everyone else showed up pretty promptly, though, and right at 10:30 a loud thunderclap got everyone's attention and we got started.
It was pretty much the same service as the first one. I think the minister read Pastor A's notes almost word-for-word. He even belted out an a capella rendition of Amazing Grace, like A did! Very creditably, too. At the end, my brother's neighbor released four white doves (actually his homing pigeons), which was really cool.
I sat through it much as I did the first one, weeping a little, missing Mom, and really biting my tongue at all the happy little fictions. I loved my mom, I still love my mom--but the truth is she was a very effed up human being. Who did some very effed up things to her kids. Things that would get her thrown in jail, nowadays.
And the godbaggery, of course, is another thing that makes it harder. I suppose that since I am in the minority when it comes to finding it a hindrance rather than a help, it is up to me to take one for the team. But even if there is a heaven, I don't find it particularlycomforting to think that some of the shit she pulled in the course of raising her kids would prevent her going there.
But it WAS comforting to see relatives and old family friends.
I was planning to hit the road immediately after the service, but my oldest brother had asked people back to his place for an informal luncheon. I felt like Daddy wanted me there, so we stopped in for a while. I had lunch, talked to family, helped pick out the memorial stone for the hospice--and took care of giving my dad the ring I'd ended up picking out for SSIL. Then we lit out north.
Yeah; weird thing about that whole ring deal. I agonized about which of her rings to give up to her, and finally had decided on Mom's good sapphire & diamond ring. It was small enough for her, simple style, very good quality (nobody can say I gypped her) and blue is her favorite color. Even after I had decided that was the one, though--I was still feeling uncertain. Then I had a very clear dream that my mom told me I had selected the right one. (I know it was Mom, because she was complaining about Daddy.) I am not a believer in the supernatural, but even if it was just my subconscious telling me to chill the fork out, I appreciated having my decision validated!
So, anyway--after I left, GSIL and dad orchestrated it so that he presented both rings at the same time, and my selection was a hit with the recipient. (GSIL called me to let me know)
Predictably, she didn't even get it all the way onto her finger before she was asking for one for her daughter. That really pissed my dad off. When I talked to him, he sounded pretty much at the end of his patience with SSIL AND her leech daughter. And it pissed me off so much that I ended up telling him about Niece going into the bedroom and helping herself to some of Grandma's bracelets while she was in hospice. And that REALLY lit him up.
And here's the thing. Yes, she is the only grandaughter. But I AM THE ONLY DAUGHTER. The trailer trash contingent, never having had either a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of, has no clue about how people of property bequeath things. As the only daughter, with no children of my own, there is only one logical person to whom I would leave my mother's things--but she's just going to have to chill out and wait till I'm dead. She managed to get around that once, but it isn't going to happen again. My dad was actually talking about putting a hasp & padlock on the door of Mom's room, so nothing else walks out of there without him knowing.
In the interests of peace, she will get a ring. But not a real one. I will pick out one of Grandma's nice fakes for her. If she wants a keepsake, that should be enough. If she doesn't...well, if she's just looking for something she could sell, then FRAK her.
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