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I'm a eugoogalizer.

The funeral was today. Right during a massive snowstorm, so it was really small. Fae was the oldest though, and the last of the Long/Wells line though so most of her relatives - excepting of course her children and grandchildren (and great grandchildren) - are dead.

I was a pallbearer this time around, and it definitely wasn't an easy thing to do. She looked different today... but it was easier this time around. Funeral processions are a strange thing. It's so heartwrenching to acknowledge that the personality and consciousness is gone from us, but then we go ahead and force ourselves to stare at the person's body. It's as though we wont believe it or understand it without the extremely disturbing visual. It's an extremely bizarre ritual.

I always feel heartless at funerals, because I shut down to point and I don't allow myself to cry if I can avoid it. I rarely hug people, because that makes it harder for me to play stoic. I hugged my family, but sparingly.

The eulogy was hard. Before I went up I told myself not to look at my Dad because he would make me cry. So, of course, the first thing I do is look at him and I start off shakey. I got it back, but I lost it at the end. It's a hard thing to really, seriously, talk through tears. The face does strange things.

I think in the end, our family is closer now though - which is decidedly ironic. My grandma was really the only social link for us, and now we've all pledged to get together more often. It's a pity that changes such as these are often the result of a death or other trauma. I guess we're all too stubborn.

After the funeral though we had a snowball fight in the parking lot. I really love my family, that even after a terrible loss, we can all run outside and act like children. Lobbing snowballs out of our cars while running around in our sunday best - suits, dresses, to boot. Irish hearts, I tell you what.

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( 6 comments — Leave a comment )
onigokko
Dec. 15th, 2005 03:06 am (UTC)
:\
(Anonymous)
Dec. 15th, 2005 03:38 am (UTC)
I tend to think of death as a way to remind people of the preciousness of being together. Yes, that's as bad as I get when it comes to cheesy lines. Still, especially in your situation, it is a gentle reminder of certain things; not just the life of they who passed, but the importance of letting go of certain things; and the life of those who are still with you.

I can't tell you the breadth of my smile when I read that you guys had a snowball fight after-the-fact. Believe it or not, I would dare say that that was probably the most important thing to happen in the entire situation...speaking as an outsider who was totally non-present. Just remember that fight. I hope to God that they who mourn me can let go enough to have a snowball fight in my honor. Okay, I don't care if it's in my honor or just because humans are screwballs, but I wanna party at my funeral, and dammit, I'll rent a Shave-ice machine if it'll make things go smoother. Anyways, good luck getting through the "last" of this. I hope you can reconnect with your Grandma another way. Remember what Weezer said,"Only In Dreams,"

Yours with no sympathy whatsoever,
--The V.B.
(Anonymous)
Dec. 15th, 2005 04:05 am (UTC)
I just felt I should specify that the "no sympathy whatsoever" comment was purely in jest. Sometime people get my humour, other times they don't. I empathise, but I think you had, at your hand, a great learning situation. I hope that you come out of this a more positive people.
Luvs ya,
The V.B.

virtuistic
Dec. 15th, 2005 06:14 am (UTC)
Naw, I got what you ment, Vandizzle Bandizzle.
virtuistic
Dec. 15th, 2005 06:13 am (UTC)
Yeah, the snowball fight really brightened my spirits too. It really was a wonderful thing.

As for reconnecting with her, I don't know if that'll be necessary. She and I were really close, and I don't feel like her death caused a breach in that. She'll always be with me, and there've been several times when I've felt that she's been with me since she passed.

It's so strange, because I always felt like I didn't look like anyone in my family. I mean, I look most like my father, if anything. In terms of eyes, hair color, etc. but - this will sound cruel - my family is pretty hefty. I, on the other hand, am very petite. It wasn't until I started looking, and I mean really looking, through old photo albums with my Grandma that I really understood where my genetics came from.

They totally came from her. I have almost her exact figure, and it seems strange but I almost feel like a little continuation of her. We both are so stubborn and fiesty, and we share loads of similar interests. I really think I got my love of music from her, especially in terms of piano.

I kind of feel like she's living through me. Our lives are very intertwined.
(Deleted comment)
virtuistic
Dec. 15th, 2005 05:07 pm (UTC)
Thanks, I appreciate it.
( 6 comments — Leave a comment )

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