MY GRANDPA DIED AT THE HOSPITAL AND THE TIMELINE THE WEEKEND OF HIS FUNERAL INCLUDED A CELEBRATION OF MY COUSIN HANNAH'S GRADUATION... MY OBSERVATIONAL EMAIL FOLLOWS... GRAMS INCLUDES A REUNION RECAP SO I WILL ADD THAT LATER IN ITS ENTIRETY... SOME SAY ITS AN EASY WAY TO BUILD A BLOG, BUT I BEG TO DIFFER. I STILL HAD TO COMMIT THIS TO PAPER... AND AS THE SUBJECT MATTER SUGGESTS, IT WAS A LABOUR OF LOVE...
ENJOY:
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” – Dickens (I think)
How true was that in terms of the weekend…? Although when I received the email from Kara on Wednesday it turned the surreal into real life. Gib called me from work Wednesday afternoon and said he’d be in to see pops in the hospital, and I told him he could stay in my place. He arrived late and decided it was best to let pops have his rest, that he would see him Thursday.
Thursday, 5:30 am…
“Pete? It’s Dad. Grampa died 5 minutes ago.”
Those words will be etched in my mind forever. And how was I going to tell Gib that his father died? How frightening?!
He woke me up saying “Its 9:30! You’re late for work!”
- “No its ok. I called off today, being up till 2:30a… But I have bad news. I don’t know how to tell you this *swallow* but grampa died this morning at 5:25 am.”
He looked deflated, but walked out of my bedroom and went into the living room. I turned over once more and somehow fell back asleep to be awake later on in the day.
Later we went to Gram’s for the wonderful occasion of making funeral arrangements and hang with the fellow mourners. Although with all the different conversations in the room, there was an old Jewish man named Allen who lightened the mood, let alone the room. He is a truly intriguing man that at every turn seems to be a bit like me. Just likes to see smiles on people’s faces, using any type of humor that will help accomplish his task. He seemed to have a goofy story for every occasion and somehow grabbed everyone’s attention by saying “QUIET! Allen is speaking!” in his (un)orthodox drawl. I don’t think ANYONE has ever silenced a room like that before, even with a ketchup bottle in your hand!
Later, Gib and I retired to my apartment and reflected on grampa’s life a little, then went to bed.
Sunday was a party like no other. It was like a reunion of sorts. Everyone was in town for the funeral, but that wasn’t priority this day! Hannah “banana fannah bo banna” Carmela turned a new leaf this year. Congrats to the grad! We all congregated to the Montrose Mansion and celebrated her achievement. There was catered food, vino, punch, a main course you could write home about, and cake fit for a queen… how fitting.
I found myself at a table with Tim “I wish it was 1990 so I had a chance with Hannah’s friends” Hill, Gib, and, of course Allen. For some reason I couldn’t resist listening to his stories and corny punch lines, and he gave me, ME, a lesson on self-deprecating humor. He was kinda intrigued by me though cause I was quiet, my mind of course was elsewhere. A tragedy had just occurred and I couldn’t turn my brain off of it. Dad had eventually explained to Allen that I am a different breed of fellow, I speak my mind on paper (electronically) and like to just take things in wherever I am at and report an all the misgivings later. I wasn’t engaging much with Allen but whenever I passed him or saw him on future days on this weekend I was sure to say hello to him. He helped brighten our day of sorrow Thursday and anyone who can make you laugh or at the least smile on a day like that at least requires acknowledgement of existence.
Later that night the first cousins (mostly) of drinking age slithered off to JM & E’s house for some late night reminiscing of the late pops, telling funny stories, being philosophical, thinking about how we could be like him in life, so as to be appreciated as much in death.
But as things go and as people stopped by bringing food and ordering pizzas, the party got looser and looser and after a few went home there was a few of us left who now have code words to remind us of that crazy end of an evening.
I never really spent this much time with my cousin Kiwi before, not this late at least. This kid has a future in comedy, the arts, something of that nature. We laughed and laughed singing songs of our generation, mostly rap so I of course just listened, and even were talented enough to seamlessly merge a song without knowing it, till music guru Jmac realized the mistake. We riffed on comedy routines, told jokes, and just had a ball. But apparently the equation of this humor by Kiwi is “make tired + family n friends = hilarity!” after a couple of hours of his sit down stand-up routine it was time to leave.
Monday was back to the grind for me. I put in time though for Thursday and Friday, and Tuesday, the day of the funeral itself. Monday was the viewing day, and when I stepped down to the bar with my best bud of 13 years, Mike, for a pre-viewing edge-taker-offer, it was about 5:20p, and there was already a line forming outside the funeral home. This was part of the testament to this radio personality. We headed down to neumeyer’s (unless this is it I will never spell that funeral home correctly) and stood in line for a split second, standing behind a towering Rick Wagner. I called dad real quick and said what can you do? He instructed me that family (and friend) could run in the side door so I grabbed tony, em, cathy, dom, tina, walt, and made a bee line to the side door.
First person I see? “Hello Allen!”
-“How ahh you?” hand extended, with an ever-present smile.
I walked in and realized we had just jumped a 2.5 hour waiting line to see gramps for the last time. I kinda felt bad but at the same time he was MY grampa, not a friend or coworker, but GRAMPA! So that anxious thought quit the second I thought of the bad feeling. He looked great, even better at peace than actually alive. He wasn’t in any pain, didn’t have to think of some quick comeback for a line you said to him, nothing. Just at peace.
The viewing went as smoothly as planned. But it was going strong the entire scheduled time. The governor make a quick respect payment, I even saw the former Secretary of Revenue Gregory Fajt. He was my boss’s boss’s boss’s boss’s boss’s…..boss. He was “the godfather” of revenue. But a pleasure of a man to work under. But the best meeting I had ever hoped to have had was a childhood friend from the boat. Susan Stewart. I saw her while walking my mom to her car. She is truly a great person and one of those people who don’t age. Her husband, Stu, had passed away about a year ago she said, and he was like a second father to me. Just a great guy and fun to be around. But sue looked terrific and we had a nice fireside chat with her, all the while more and more people were showing up to see gramps.
We were there for 3 hours and it seemed the line never diminished. And it hadn’t. After taking many outside breaks, Mike and I had decided we had had enough, and headed home. After starting early, Gib finally made it home at a quarter of 11.
Tuesday didn’t start off well. First I had the wrong instructions so I was in a rush. Since never being a pall bearer before I didn’t know the pall bearing meant heavy lifting. Well, not like this. I have never in my life carried such an important thing like my grandfather in a casket along with my other cousins. And that wasn’t the point. This thing weighed in at 3,000 tons. That’s 6 MILLION POUNDS. There were 8 of us (including “the Hulk”AKA young Philip) so we were each carrying 750,000 pounds. Needless to say my elbow separated more times than Bob Horst has broken my hand in a handshake.
I have never carried something so heavy in my life.
We got to the church and parked in the alley. No parking lots or nothing, it was the alley. We were all in formation so it worked out fine. We grabbed gramps, got him in the church, and proceeded with a wonderful mass. Joe stood up and the family sang, Kristin read well, Banana sang beautifully, and even the priest’s homily was poignant and his attempt on gramp’s voice was funny. Paul later reported the flag would be flying at half mast in honor of the fallen wordsmith, Eddie read one of gramp’s passages that this year, 20 years ago, any time, could be used as a way to think differently about yourselves and others. Dad got up there and gave a eulogy that Mike complimented best. He said “My wife said to me after your eulogy that she had never met gramps, but she felt like she didn’t just meet him, but she knew him.” And it was true. A fine eulogy indeed.
Later we went to Cantone’s restaurant, a favorite watering hole of gramps, and the owner was a great friend. The food was fantastic, drinks flowing and everyone had an all around fine time. Although when I walked in, I heard a great line: “Oh no… finish fast! They’re here. Its gonna get loud!” Well, yeah… it did.
I think if gramps was alive, and younger, he would have had a blast. But you know what? He WAS there. He’s in all of us now more so than before and as long as we all carry him around with us in our hearts, his legacy will never die.
III
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