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and in other news... Crap On Toast "To Serve Man" Day 358: It's Official! Get Yer Kicks I Have Only One Word for You. Can't Sleep, Taking Tests New Toys No Rest for the Weary Withdrawal Write Off? Right On! other stuff: buy stuff i designed my flickr page forgotten new york frellyheck chinh loobylu jakwon tof reknin 63 days heart and mind obscure store dooce oddy-knocky natruallycurly.com knitty TRIPPYswell RSS Feed www.flickr.com
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Wiped Out
Wednesday, May 28, 2008 Today was my grandma's funeral, so basically we've been running around Brooklyn since the crack of dawn. First we took a cab to the funeral home to say goodbye, then off to Our Lady of Refuge where my brothers and I went to Catholic school when we were kids. I don't know why it's done, probably some superstitious reason, but we usually swing past the house on the way to church, but we were late, so we went directly to the church, which bothered me. I mean, my grandma wanted to be buried with a huge bag full of rosary beads, the least we could do was take an extra minute to drive by the house. It was on the way for Christ's sake. Anyway, Father Perry, who I only know from the various funerals I've attended in the past few years, did a very beautiful service, wherein he mentioned my grandmother's out of this world meatballs and I cried my face off. Then we were off to Green-wood, where we had to actually wait on line to get in there were so many funerals today. Someone ahead of us had a floral memorial deliverd on the back of a snazzy black El Camino. It was in the shape of an ace of hearts. Inveterate gambler, perhaps? Mafia kingpin? Who knows. We wound our way to one of our family plots and said some prayers (three Hail Mary's and one Our Father) then bid grandma farewell. I will, of course, be back. I'm the only person in my family who is able to follow the map to visit my Aunt Marietta's plot (which is now Aunt Nay's too) on the other side of the cemetery, so I always accompany my Aunt Jeanne to do the Christmas flowers. I have a lot of family in Green-Wood. My Grandpa, Uncle Mikey, Aunt Marietta, Aunt Nay and now Grandma. Uncle Nino is in a different cemetery in Queens. I was upset years ago when Aunt Jeanne first got the plots for her family, because I was sad they would all be together and then where would I go? I have since decided to be cremated, tossed into a Ralph's coffee can and be shaken over Pacific ocean some windy day. Just kidding about the Pacific ocean, but I do not want to by buried. In fact, I do not want to be embalmed or "laid out" or "viewed" or any of that stuff. I can't stand my family's old school Italian way of dealing with death. I hate open caskets. No one ever looks right and sometimes the image of their final rest becomes a hideous recurring thought to me. I try not to look at them. It's too emotional. And I get disturbed by the inconsistencies of their appearance. Aunt Nay didn't look like Swoozie Kurtz and have a big bust in real life, why did she have to look like that in death? And Aunt Marietta wasn't a redhead when she was alive. I had a hard time recognizing her at all. Grandma looked all wrong. It was just so wrong to see her in there, not moving around, not saying how much she loves me, then yelling at me because I never visit (even though I'd seen her just three days before) then confiding I was her favorite, but shhhhh! don't tell anyone! I've been to other funerals or wakes or memorial services that were so much nicer in my mind. A friend's father died and he was in a pine box next to a podium and friends and family all spoke and told stories about him in turn. It was lovely. Kyle's brother had a similar wake. He was a contractor, so they family had put out some of his tools and business cards, things he used every day and were a part of his life, and there were several bulletin boards with pictures from al the stages of his life, so you could see him as a child, a teenager with long rocker hair, a young married man with two baby girls, a loving father in a flannel shirt on the porch of his farmhouse with his kids and wife. It was so sweet and moving. My family doesn't do any of that. And from what I can gather, if you're not Italian-American, you might not know the horrors of "our kind" of proceedings. It gives me the creeps. A couple of weeks after my Aunt Nay's funeral, I wen to Madam Tussaud's Wax Museum with my mom and I nearly ran back out because I felt like I was surrounded by the reanimated corpses of famous people who had escaped their open caskets and were slowly coming to get me, in classic zombie-movie fashion. Simply dreadful. But at least we don't do three day wakes any more. Those were torture. When we finally got home 6, I fell into bed and passed out until 10. I woke up with a whopping headache, which I was afraid was the beginning of a migraine until I realized it was actually a hangover headache from the vodka and pineapple I had at Michael's Restaurant after the graveside service. We always have parties at Michael's. My grandma's 80th birthday party and her 95th. My engagement/shower/wedding party (since we eloped to Vegas) was at Michael's. And of course, all the funeral parties. We also eat dinner there on a regular basis. It's a real old school place with Italian waiters, run by an Italian family, their pasta is very good and best of all, they have valet parking. And they all know my grandma, so everyone was very sympathetic. Anyway, I guzzled my drink on an empty stomach and spent half the afternoon drunk and stuffing my face with bread and butter, pizza bread, olives, salad, penne alla vodka, and a few bites of dried out pork. I shoulda gotten the chicken. Oh well. Then we had coffee and pastries. After that we went back to grandma's house, where I was ready to find a quiet empty room and nod off, but that didn't happen. A few hours later we left and my mom and brothers dropped us off and I took the nap this missive started with. So now, here I sit, it's midnight. I took half a sleeping pill in the hopes that I will be able to fall asleep again soon. I could really use some more sleep. Really and truly. posted at 8:51 AM . link to this post .   .
(2) comments
2 Comments:
Oh my... I'm so sorry. My deepest sympathies, Angela. *huggggz*
By
Thank you Jeff.
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