It has been more than a month since I had received word that my great uncle died. I didn’t know him personally, but from the stories that I heard, he sounded like he was a pretty stand up guy. I had gotten a text from my mother about his death and called her. He had died about three weeks after my great great grandmother.
My mother had asked me if I was going to the funeral, and I said ‘yes’ of course. I knew how much he meant to my mother and my uncle Granville. In fact, my uncle Granville had spoken very well of my great uncle when he himself surprised me with a phone call at the end of November. My uncle told me that he had admired him and told him that later on when my uncle Granville was an adult.
I asked my mom about my grandmother. I knew that she was coping with the death of her mother just weeks prior and now she had to deal with burying her younger brother.
While my mother and grandmother made funeral preparations, I tried to come to terms with everything that was happening. My mind was still focused on the Facebook drama, but slowly turned my mind away from it. My family was important than some stupid beef that I had resumed with some guy that I knew. My task was to help write out the eulogy. Well, at least type it up for the printing company. I did so.
The next day was his wake. As My mother, grandmother and I walked into the funeral home, it seemed as if all eyes were on us. I didn’t know any of these people and most of my family on both sides, I am a total stranger to them. I saw met a couple of cousins and avoided others. The main person I wanted to see was my uncle Granville. He was the only person that I really cared to see since I hadn’t seen him since his oldest son’s funeral about 7 years prior.
And true to form he was there. I tried to support my grandmother but I felt like I failed. I didn’t know what to say or do. How can I make things better for her and my uncle. My mom was good as could be. Then again my mind was focused on what everyone else was saying and doing.
I mean there were things that were done that I thought were inappropriate at a funeral, but I let it go.
Then the next day came. The burial was to be held in Staten Island. My great uncle was laid to rest on a hill. I stood next to my grandmother on that cold Friday morning. We all sang hymns (songs I never even heard of) that my mother had selected. I started to tear up after seeing my grandmother start to cry. (Gee, I suck at comforting) It was just too much to deal with.
We all stood as we watched him being lowered into the earth. It was surreal. This wasn’t my first funeral that I attended, but every time I go to one I just can’t help but cry. As we said our goodbyes and all went back to our cars, I was thinking about all the souls that would keep my uncle company.
A bridge and a parkway later, we were home. I took off my clothes and went to bed. However, every time I closed my eyes I would see my uncle in the casket. I don’t know why but something was bothering about it. I was annoyed at the fact at some of the mourners ignorance while at the wake, but I don’t know what else was the matter. Maybe I was over thinking things like I usually do. Well, whatever it was I hope he is at peace.
Saying goodbye to a loved one is never easy I think. We love them that we can’t bear the thought that we will never be able to pick up a phone and call them or see them at the breakfast table or listen to their stories for the one millionth time. So while they are here we have to appreciate them, because in this life there is never enough time.
Until next time.