Well, and uncle dies last week. (My dad’s brother-in-law. His other BIL died earlier this year.) The funeral was yesterday. Since it was 400+ miles away, I left after work on Friday on the seven-hour drive.
First fun: My navigation system didn’t know where my aunt’s house is. (MapQuest did.) It seems that recently it doesn’t know where anything is. (Hm. I should start a GQ thread on that.) A little after midnight, after driving a couple of miles in the rain and fog past the gravel road off of the twisting barely-two-lane rural road, I found the mailbox. I marked it on the nav. system, and guess what? The address (wrong by one digit) popped up. I drove a couple of miles back to the highway and found a hotel about ten miles away. I slept for six hours and then phoned my aunt in the morning to find that they would be leaving around nine.
Since I’d marked the location, I tried again to enter the address into the nav. system. No joy. Well, I could find it. Since I could actually see in the morning, I drove faster. After what seemed the right amount of time I discovered I’d missed the turn-off by about five miles. I turned on the nav. system and saw the little flag icon and touched it. Now the system would lead me to the house! I followed the route, but it took me to a different turn-off road. I ended up coming in the back way. I got to the house at 0903. It was empty.
Now here’s the actual fun part: I didn’t know where the funeral would be held. I saw a statue in the yard, so I surmised my relatives are Catholic. Well, that’s a start. I went back to town and went to the hospital that was near the hotel. They had a phone book. Two pages of funeral homes. Time to make random phone calls! On the second call I found it. The receptionist gave me directions. (The nav. system didn’t know the address of the church, which had been there quite a long time and was in town.) Only she told me to drive south on the highway instead of north. So several miles later I called back and she put the fun. director on the line. That got me close, but it took another phone call to actually find the place.
The place was crowded. I learned later that the church was not the one my aunt and uncle attended, as that one was too small to hold everyone. Something like 250 people, mostly relatives. I only recognised a few of them. Lots of jeans, several cowboy hats, and a few Wyatt Earp moustaches. Now, I’m not religious. And I hate funerals. They’re so depressing! And the rituals are alien to me. Lots of standing up and sitting down and standing up again. Everyone else knew the words. When they were talking about the ‘everlasting feast’ in heaven, I found myself wondering if people poop in heaven. I mean, if the feast is everlasting it has to go somewhere! (Maybe a Valentine Michael Smith process?)
Then it was off to the graveyard where my uncle’s ashes would be buried. After the ceremony and three Garand volleys by the Marine League it was back to the church for a big feed. Whenever our family gets together, the food comes out. I hadn’t eaten since the previous night, so by two o’clock I was a little hungry. I finally got to re-acquaint myself with relatives that I hadn’t seen in 15 years or more. Everyone said I looked like my dad, except for his younger sister who thought I looked like my mom’s dad. Must be the hair. Dad wore his very short. I got a haircut in May. Long hair takes a little away from the resemblance. After the feed it was back to the house (not everyone, but still a crowd) where we caught up and reminisced. I stayed for about three hours and then made the long trek home.
I’m officially old. I told the daughter of a cousin (she was easy to recognise, as my cousin had married a Black guy – I was able to pick him out right away too.), ‘I am so trying not to say “The last time I saw you, you were this high.”’ She said she’d been getting that a lot. She’s 18 now, and the last time I saw here she was three.
I’m still amazed I found the funeral on the second call.