We buried Gram today. It's a v. strange thing to do, when you get right down to it - the ritual, the flow, the way things always go as you move through the schedule of saying goodbye. In a small town that's even more true - things happen that we all understand, but that don't happen in bigger cities. Things like leaving funeral announcement cards at all the convenience stores, grocery store aisles, etc. so that the public can hear about the funeral in time. Or how nearly everyone pulled over for the funeral procession and let us pass as we drove six miles from the funeral home to the cemetery. Or the visits we got before the funeral, and the meal put together by the community after.
Today was as nice as it could have been - the weather was gorgeous, and while it's all rather sad and awful, it was time for Gram to go. So we tried, as much as possible, to be somewhat celebratory (although we all seemed on the edge of sobbing). [censored] and I delivered joint remarks at the funeral, which went pretty well all things considered. We aimed for the right mix between levity and tragedy, and I think we got there - the levity was important, partially because Gram loved to laugh and partially because [censored] and I wouldn't have made it through if we hadn't had some jokes to keep us from losing it.
Of course, it was touch and go at other points. The PEO group that Gram was part of for 45 years (and that her mom was in, and my mom is in, and Aunt Becky is in, and I'm in) performed the funeral service for departed members, which nearly broke me since I've known those women practically my whole life. Gram's friend Lois had a really hard time - she's over ninety, is still living at home and driving and totally sharp, and has now lost all of her original friends. And many of the attendees were in their seventies or beyond...the shift in the community, as it comes, is going to be dramatic.
sssanyway. After the service, and after the cemetery (where I nearly lost it when I remembered, as we pulled up, that seeing Gram's burial meant I was also going to see Granddad's side of the tombstone, and I v. rarely visit Granddad because even after eighteen years it's still sometimes too painful), and after the dinner (aka lunch, which I mostly spent with my sister and two of her three kids), we came home and dealt with the cards and memorials and all the listmaking needed to ensure that we send thank-yous. Aunt B and Uncle B, and Aunt Kathy and Drewbaby, all stayed for that part, but slowly trickled out over the course of the afternoon. So then my parents and [censored] and I went out for prime rib, and it was a decent end to teh day.
So, this chapter is over. As much as I like change, I'm hoping that there aren't any other closing chapters coming up - I could use a break from trauma.
Finally - the family made a cookbook with all of our favorite recipes from Gram, as well as stories and quotes from all of us. We did this a year ago, so my uncle's thoughts are in there too. We printed a bunch of copies for the funeral, but if you want to make jello salad or ham balls or a variety of other midwestern delights, you can get the pdf at
bit.ly/teressa-cookbook.
And now, since I still don't quite feel like getting into the emotion under the facts, I'm going to bed - goodnight!