On Thursday, my grandma died.
She was on the decline for a while, entering Hospice while the family emotionally prepared for her passing. While she hovered on the brink, I had a chat with Jesus; I told him that he’d better be there to personally greet her at the gates of Heaven after she attended daily Mass for nearly 90 years.
I think Jesus had a scheduling conflict, because my grandma miraculously woke up out of Hospice, was coherent for a couple more weeks, then died peacefully Thursday morning.
When I got the news, I felt at peace for two reasons:
- I knew she was being escorted around her Heavenly Dream House by the Man himself, and
- I knew she was finally driving my grandpa nuts, cooking him terrible goulash and making up for their 12-year separation.
I also felt sad, and instead of crying like a normal person (like my cousins), or looking serious and stoic (like my uncles), I did what I normally do at funerals: desperately tried to shut my brain up. Every time I’m at a funeral – and I mean, every time – my brain is all, “Hey, gurlll! You’re trying to look solemn! Here’s a totally inappropriate thought!â€
The last time I attended a funeral, I spotted a woman wearing an $8,000 mink coat while carrying a $40 nylon purse. Instead of paying any attention to the ceremony, I obsessed over that coat/purse discrepancy, wondering if she had lost all her money and, if so, why she didn’t sell the coat and pay some bills.
This time, I noticed some serious streamer action as we entered the church. There were long, rainbow-colored streamers hanging two stories high, from the ceiling to floor. In fact, there were rainbows everywhere, and I turned and whispered to my mom (in true confusion), “Doesn’t the church hate gays?â€
That’s definitely the question to ask in the middle of a Catholic funeral. Definitely.
I hereby ban myself from all future funeral attendance, because I’m the worst at it. The rainbows represented Easter and rebirth (or something), which I’d know if I ever went to church. At least my involuntary bad behavior stays (mostly) inside my head; if I were one of those people who giggled in stressful situations, my grandmother would have reached down from above and “hit me with a ball bat!†to remind me how a grandchild of hers ought to act in church.
…maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing.
el
May 1, 2012 at 7:17 am
Carlene, I love your posts! This one and the African studies post… couldn’t stop laughing. I will now be a regular reader!
Carlene
May 1, 2012 at 8:19 am
@el – Thank you! Glad to hear we have another rider on the Crazy Train.
Casey
May 1, 2012 at 9:03 am
I do this too! Which is why I don’t want a “funeral”. I want a big party where people can tell each other stories about me and laugh and not feel like they’re doing anything wrong by celebrating. It’s still ok to cry and look forlorn but you try being all serious when my last wishes state that party hats and noise makers are NOT optional.
Kerosena
May 1, 2012 at 2:25 pm
I’m sorry for your loss. It sounds like your grandma was truly loved.
I’m also a victim of overactive brain, but mine occurs whenever I try to get a massage. It’s impossible for me to relax when I have to think about the crappy “whale song” music, and wonder if the massage therapist just recently got out of massage school, and if it was everything she’d hoped it would be, and if she gets tired of touching strangers, and how many massages a day does she give anyway, and how much does she make an hour, and is it enough to live on, and what is the average career span of a massage therapist-because I’d imagine anyone would get sick of that job in less than a year…and on and on.
Shirneen
May 1, 2012 at 7:58 pm
OMG you are too funny! Maybe it is just a defense mechanism so you don’t let the grief take you over. Nothing would be worse than going into the “ugly cry” right there in the church. I will bet that your Grandmother was looking down from Heaven and just enjoying every minute of it…..really!
Jon
May 1, 2012 at 11:04 pm
Don’t let a little (fun) inappropriate behavior keep you from doing things like that. :)
Kaybea
May 2, 2012 at 10:11 am
So, my Poppy passed last year and we had a VERY Irish Catholic mass. Well, the priest went to give himself communion during said mass, forgot to turn his microphone off and proceeded to “om nom nom nom” over the church speaker system. I busted out laughing, I couldn’t have cared less everyone was staring at me, it was great.
Eric
May 2, 2012 at 4:13 pm
Mine also died April 30 — in 2007. She was my first relative that I knew well enough, and was old enough, to really understand the loss. My birthday is at the end of May, and I always got a birthday card from her. It was really hard not getting that card. I’m sorry for your loss.