Funerals

I’m feeling uninspired at the moment. But here’s what I’ve been up to:

Went to a funeral for J’s gma in NYC, stayed overnight at Good SIL’s house. Everyone was on their best behavior. Although to demonstrate how MIL has a tendency to forego using her brain, during the [sober] early evening, I noted my throat hurt and requested hot tea. I received it. MIL goes, ‘hot tea really makes your throat feel better? really?’ She was not being sarcastic.

Perhaps I am wrong and this isn’t common knowledge. If I am correct, though, the only way one does not know this is if they do not reside on planet earth.

To her credit, though (and also to Evil SIL’s credit) everyone was nice. I was nervous, as I thought I had until Thanksgiving to brave the in-laws.

In any event, I love that particular side of J’s extended family. His aunts are so much fun and his cousins couldn’t be cooler. J’s paternal gma was a good one: she raised 4 successful and very strong children in the Bronx with a no bull-sh*t style of mothering. Then returned to teaching once her youngest was in high school. Nothing was more important to her than her Catholicism and she gave everyone h*ell (J & myself included) for living in sin. How can you fault someone who is this concerned with your salvation (or eternal da*mnation) (Note: I am not this forgiving with political figures who are concerned with my salvation. They are just judging me because they think that they are better than me- and if “better” means that they drink less, then d*amnit, they are better). Anyway, she was 90, so she lived a nice, long life. She suffered for the last 2 years so her death was not a surprise. I know that she boiled chicken and was always dressed in her best (a quality which I do not have, but I do admire in others). She was married in St. Patrick's cathedral in NYC. She was 100% irish and she was straightforward, which is a breath of fresh air and very unlike MIL (this is MIL's MIL, in case you hadn't put that together- MIL didn't really like her bc they are so different. MIL is proper and thinks she's better than everyone and expects you to read between the lines of her facial expressions. Nanny was blunt and said what was on her mind.)

At her husband's (J's pop-pop) funeral a few years ago, we were all at this restaurant while they were digging the grave (long story- but basically we arrived for the burial and they dug his grave on the wrong plot, so we all got really drunk at a nearby restaurant). Nanny started to cry during a toast. Her oldest daughter (my favorite of J's aunts) stood up and said, 'Mom, when I went through all my stuff (she meant her divorce and breast cancer), I told you I did not think that I could handle all of the events in my life. And you reminded me that of course I would manage these events- I was a survivor. And that I would come out a stronger person at the end of these trials. And, mom, you taught me to survive because you are a survivor. And you will survive this too.' I will never forget this.

This same aunt gave the eulogy at her mother's funeral. Since I generally do not like displaying emotion in front of crowds, the presence of a special room in the back for people with babies was nice. Monkey and I were able to sit by ourselves in the back. Monkey was WAAY too happy to be sitting with everyone at a funeral. She was squealing and having a grand old time.

In the eulogy J's aunt detailed Nanny's life growing up in NY. And she added that her mother had always been her soundboard- the person she went to with her ups and her downs and for advice and for help. And that 2 days ago, she lost her person. And, as my mother is also my person, it got to me.

The priest naturally discussed that in the journey of life, death is just one of those things that we all must go through. I know this isn't a novel statement by any means, but how terrible is this fact?

At the gravesite, J's dad straight up farted. Nobody heard it but me and I called him out on it later when we were all drunk. He swore that it was so quiet that nobody would have been able to hear it. I was standing about 6 feet away from him. I heard it loud and clear.

Rest in peace, Nanny.