Bearing of the Pall

The funeral was today.

Coming from a small country community where you're related to everyone, you develop an almost whimsical view of death. Growing up, it seemed that every weekend we either had a wedding or a funeral to go to. On some occasions both, which makes it easier since you're already dressed for the second one, and you don't have to leave the church. Today was no different. In fact, while we were at the graveside they were decorating for a wedding to follow shortly after. I swear I'm not making that up. I helped move out some of the "Rest in Peace" flowers to make way for wedding "Bless this union" arrangements. In hindsight I probably should have left them there. They would be more appropriate.

So I've been to a lot of funerals. It makes you realize that this is the only time I get to see any of my relatives. Gone is the day that everyone got together for holidays, barbecues, etc. I think
that we've come to that place in society that 3 generations are all we're able to handle. I'm the same way. With only a few noteable exceptions, the only family I really see are my parental units and siblings. Don't get me wrong, I love my extended family, but after spending a few hours with them, I realize what made me move 100 miles away.

Another thing I learned was: 92 degrees+Wool suit+carrying a large metal box with someone inside=sweat. It wasn't too bad. Luckily I brought clothes to change into after, but the bathrooms are outside and in an un-air conditioned, unventilated building that was built in the early 60's with 3,000 watt light bulbs dangling from arcing wires. I think I sweated more changing into said clothes than I did in my suit.

The best part came after, when I got to see all of the extended family, second cousins, great aunts, third cousins twice removed, my mother's third cousin's uncle, you get the idea. It's funny getting the "My how you've grown" comments when you're in your mid-thirties. I eventually started telling them that it was because of steroids, and that my goal is to reach 9'3" and 864 lbs by Christmas.

SIDE NOTE: The 'tee turned out to be a big hit with the more elderly ladies, to which I now seem to have a gaggle of septuagenarian groupies. One actually called me a "hunk."

I suppose I'll take the adoration wherever I can get it.