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So my great-aunt C had her nintieth birthday the weekend of the 13th (I went down to NYC for the party), and then her sister-in-law my great-aunt D died on Monday August 15th. I left Thursday to go to her wake and funeral. Of the siblings and spouses of siblings, the ten "original recipie" (as great-aunt D used to call them) only two are left.
Great-Aunt C and Great-Aunt G. And in my father's generation of cousins (with spouses included there are about twenty), we've have lost two members already. My generation started having babies within the last decade or so, and already there are already about ten children spread amoung the far flung branches of the family tree.
So while I really loved seeing that side of the family over the last two weeks, I hated that one of the events was a wake and funeral. Although the rituals surrounding a funeral I understand are for the family to say good bye, I always think it is somewhat morbid how we choose to do so. My family is a big Italian Catholic family, I am not Catholic so a lot of the rites and rituals went completely over my head. It didn't help that the Father performing the service has such a thick accent you could only understand one word in a dozen, and usually that word was "amen."
This is why rumour has it my great-aunt C goes to the mass he performs in Italian (Saturday evenings) rather than the ones in English. Apparently he has impeccable Italian, but his English is hit or miss.
So while my brother was making faint noises like the Muppets' Swedish Chef just before the funeral (the Father prayed with the people gathered at the Wake the night before, again only one word in twenty or so were understood), I was trying not to cough through the whole service (I seem to have come home from Paris with a cold). The incense he used was a bit pungent and irritated all of us.
Then my cousins A and R hosted a lunch for all of us before we all went home. Because of a line of thunderstorms, our flight was an hour and a half late. I didn't get home until long after ten pm. It's been a difficult couple of weeks. I hope the next time I see my family it is for something good, and not another funeral.
Great-Aunt C and Great-Aunt G. And in my father's generation of cousins (with spouses included there are about twenty), we've have lost two members already. My generation started having babies within the last decade or so, and already there are already about ten children spread amoung the far flung branches of the family tree.
So while I really loved seeing that side of the family over the last two weeks, I hated that one of the events was a wake and funeral. Although the rituals surrounding a funeral I understand are for the family to say good bye, I always think it is somewhat morbid how we choose to do so. My family is a big Italian Catholic family, I am not Catholic so a lot of the rites and rituals went completely over my head. It didn't help that the Father performing the service has such a thick accent you could only understand one word in a dozen, and usually that word was "amen."
This is why rumour has it my great-aunt C goes to the mass he performs in Italian (Saturday evenings) rather than the ones in English. Apparently he has impeccable Italian, but his English is hit or miss.
So while my brother was making faint noises like the Muppets' Swedish Chef just before the funeral (the Father prayed with the people gathered at the Wake the night before, again only one word in twenty or so were understood), I was trying not to cough through the whole service (I seem to have come home from Paris with a cold). The incense he used was a bit pungent and irritated all of us.
Then my cousins A and R hosted a lunch for all of us before we all went home. Because of a line of thunderstorms, our flight was an hour and a half late. I didn't get home until long after ten pm. It's been a difficult couple of weeks. I hope the next time I see my family it is for something good, and not another funeral.
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