#74
Ignore the elephant in the room, she said, gesturing to the corner where her younger brother sat sobbing wildly. He had on jean overalls and a button up flannel shirt.
Her: no respect for his own father.
I could smell the Camel Menthol’s on her breath. When she hugged me, her clothes were scented with Chanel No. 5. These two I knew would always remind me of her.
Her: Here we are at a funeral he didn’t want. No one has respect for the dead anymore.
Me: He should have made a will.
Her: smeesh.
He had only been dead for a few days. The drive down, two hours with three cups of mini-market coffee and just as many pee breaks was quiet. The radio was on, but I can’t tell you what was playing. I had arrived by plane the night before. I had jet lag. I didn’t know why I came.
Her: I’m so glad you’re here, honey.
Everyone was sad. He was a real elder of the community, despite his feeble attempt at being a parent, a father. He was an excellent grandfather and I couldn’t help but think it’s always like that. She’s a better grandmother than she was a mother.
My sister: you’re right. She treats my kids better than she did us.
Me: we were left home a lot, but really, look, we’re still alive.
There were piles of flowers that will end up god knows where after. Funerals and weddings keep florists in business.
He wasn’t religious, no, not at all, so this funeral that he didn’t want, in a casket he didn’t choose, in clothes he probably never wore, was coming to a non-religious end and all I could think about was how tired I was and the mountain of food that was waiting, in all places, a church basement, ready to feed the hungry funeral goers.
As the last person said their goodbyes, and their kind words, as the chairman of the county fair committee teared up as he read about all he had done for the event over the years, I glanced next to me and saw her mascara running down her face.
Me: It’s ok mom. I’m sure he knew.
Her: I know. I’m fine. I really don’t feel anything.
Later, in the church basement, I ate three ham sandwiches and a plateful of macaroni and cheese and passed out on a cot in the kids corner.
Her: let’s go honey. Let’s get you to bed.