The Funeral

Current mood:crappy

I don't know if anyone cares, but I thought I would post what happened at the visitation and the funeral.

On Thursday we drove down to Clarksville (I will always think of the Monkees' song when I think of this place. "Last Train to Clarksville" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ScXXaBu1Ing). We stopped by my grandfather's house, where we saw my Uncle and his youngest son, Ryan. The only words my uncle said to me the entire time we were there was when we first came in. Shortly after his wife (Whom I hate and who hates me) came in with my uncle's oldest son from his first marriage, Andy. On site, my uncle's wife gave Donnie and I a dirty look and moved into the kitchen.

We (as in Chris, Mom, Donnie and I) then took a gift card Grandpa had left for us and went to Kohl's department store to get some clothes and shoes. I had no shoes, but the ones I got were cute. Until they started killing my feet about half-way through visitation.

At the visitation we saw my Grandfather's sister, Aunt Sandy, and her husband, Uncle Jerry (who always reminds me of Harpo Marx http://s3.amazonaws.com/findagrave/photos/2001/271/679_1001780925.jpg); my Grandmother's brother, Uncle Ralph, and his wife, Aunt Judy; My mother's uncles: Ricky, Kevin and David (who even though they are my mother's uncles they are all younger than her.); and my Aunt Kay. At least, those are the people I knew best. My uncle Donald (who is famous in our family as a historian and having one green eye and one brown) and his wife were there at one point, as was my Uncle Jim, though my Aunt Barbara (Jim's wife) was not there due to a broken hip and severe Alzeheimer's.

Grandpa actually looked very good, very peaceful. I kept expecting him to wake up at any moment and tell me something I didn't know about an old movie, or to ask what the score for the football game was. Which it was Cardinals 3, Chargers 0 and I think it was 4th and Down. It never actually hit me while we were there, I just felt so numb.

Even though he looked well and peaceful, you could tell that he had lost a lot of weight, because the cuffs of his suit didn't fit quite right.

His hair was a little askew and for the first time in my life I touched a dead body. It seemed so natural for me to reach out to put his hair in place, but he was so cold. Donnie stood next to me as I smoothed Grandpa's hair, I think he was waiting for my breakdown to arrive, but it didn't show up until much later.

I actually was fairly good up until Hannah got there. When Hannah arrived she was trying to hold back her tears, which made my heart break for her. It seems so unfair that children should lose people they care the most about. She told us the good news though, because Wes had been ordered to hand Hannah over to us by either a judge or his attorney for the duration of the visitation and funeral. He was there for only a little while and the only person who spoke to him besides my mother was my Uncle Jerry.

Hannah went through probably 50 tissues and avoided the coffin like the plague. I didn't push her, but I did say that if she wanted to look at him and say goodbye I would go with her. She waited until the visitation was almost over.

We walked up there and stood a moment. She was crying and I was getting misty and Chris came up. Then one of the most beautiful moments happened. I was on Hannah's left and Chris was on her right and we all clung to each other as we said our silent goodbyes to the one man that mattered most to us all. I wish someone had taken a picture, because it was one of those moments that breaks your heart even as it says that everything will be okay. Even thinking about it right now makes me want to cry.

After the visitation everyone went out to eat at a restaurant called Buckheads, which is on the River. Across the river you could see the buildings in the next state. Hannah was enamoured with the view and I'll have to post the pictures she took soon. The one thing that bothered me most about the dinner though was that my uncle made it seem like only he and Aunt Sandy were going through this, not my mom. He left her almost completely out. He made it sound like he was the only one who took care of Grandpa as he died, well except for the nurse they had procured. As we were leaving the restaurant, Mom, Chris, Hannah and I stopped in the entrance. It smelled just like Grandpa. I wish we could've captured the scent in a bottle.

Turns out Grandpa thought of everything, he left money for my Uncle to procure a hotel room for us to sleep in. That was a bit of a tight fit and we had some minor arguments, but we worked everything out. I blame the little spats on the heat and the emotional undercurrents.

The next morning we all went to the funeral. That was hard. The closest I came to crying through out this was then. In a way I'm glad we left before they lowered the coffin into the ground. At least he is in a nice cemetery. The shitty thing is that Uncle Derek didn't even hug us. He only hugged my mother because my Aunt Sandy was standing next to them.

We all went back to Grandpa's house where we had lunch and then we left. We crossed the bridge so that Hannah could take pictures in the next state, with permission from Wes, as removing Hannah from the state can be considered kidnapping if she doesn't have permission. We got lost on our way back.

It was a tense ride back home. Donnie and I had a minor blow-up, so for the rest of the car ride we didn't speak to each other. Once again, I'd like to blame the heat and the emotional stuff that was going on. We fixed it when we got home.

We weren't even home an hour before it hit me. Donnie and I were laying next to each other and I stared at the ceiling and said, "Donnie, My grandpa is dead." and then I started crying harder than I think I have ever cried. And as childish as it may seem I was crying because I wanted him back to walk me down the aisle when I get married and I was worried because he doesn't know any of the people he is buried next to and the memory of how cold he was when I brushed his hair aside came rushing into my brain.

I cried for probably an hour or so. I burst the blood vessels on one side of my face, the side that was pressed to Donnie as I bawled. I asked Mom if I could keep a package of Grandpa's cigarettes because they smell a little like him. Which also seems incredibly silly, but I want something of him near me.

I'm sure it hasn't even hit me as hard as it will in a week or two. I know it hasn't hit me as hard as it will when I walk down the aisle or when I watch a movie we both loved. I haven't listened to Frank Sinatra or watched Paul Newman or done anything really that would remind me of what I've lost yet. I know I will and I know it will hurt, but it is all a part of the process right?

Anyway, that is how everything went.

Rest in Peace: J.W.K. September 22nd, 1937 - August 26th, 2009.