"It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known."
- Charles Dickens, A Tale Of Two Cities

"She was truest to them in the season of trial, as all the quietly loyal and good will always be. "
- Charles Dickens, A Tale Of Two Cities

November 25th, 2002

I don't like funerals.

No matter how you slice them, funerals are never fun.

Of course the one exception is maybe the passing of someone you really didn't like and you have new dancing shoes to break in. But other than that, there is no "fun" in funeral.*

Funerals are something of a new experience for me. I have only been to four funerals in my lifetime and one of which was for my dog, Casey.** But the three others were within the last two years. This last funeral reawakened many thoughts that I've been waiting to write about.

My first human funeral was for my Italian grandmother, my father's mother. I never knew either of my grandfathers but I did know both of my grandmothers. We called my Italian grandmother, "Little Grandma" because she was only 4 foot 11. She was the master cook, the seemstress, the teller of old tales and the maker of home remedies. My wife and I have had conversations about where some of her cures had come from and I'll just leave it by saying that they were very old and very effective.

She was diagnosed with inoperable cancer in the beginning of January 2000. My parents set up a hospice in their home and she died two weeks later. It was very quick and was very traumatic. The night she died my mother had asked me to deliver the eulogy at her funeral. I found it ironic as the one member of the family that had the least amount of experience at funerals was asked to be the spotlight of the ceremony.

Writing a eulogy isn't easy.

My grandmother was in her 80's when she passed away and all of a sudden I had the task to trying to sum up her entire life in the space of a couple of pages. It really is a no win situation. You either talk about the deceased too much or too long and keep the congregation in a state of mild tolerance or you don't speak enough and do a grave injustice to her memory.

In my days pre-Vikar's Rant, I wasn't as free with my words. I spent the day before the wake alone in my computer room composing. I managed to piss off my wife by telling her I didn't wish to be disturbed. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts. I had too many feelings that I had to try to sort out and too many memories I had to sift through.

I found that going through your own memories about a recently deceased loved one was not the easiest thing in the world. It is a very unique experience. It's sort of like finding a trunk of old clothes that you haven't worn in years and letting them breathe. There is a comfort in reacquainting yourself with the past. The feeling of nostalgia, ignited with the passion of a freshly made wound. There are birthdays, holidays, dinners, arguments, conversations, feelings, thoughts, hugs, kisses, and loose ends that come back.

And ever present in the back of my mind was one thought, "Grandma's dead."

Turn on the PC (Grandma's dead). Bring up the application (Grandma's dead). Think of the past (she's not coming back). Think of the future (no more Christmases with her). Think of the present (one less place for dinner). Write the love (Grandma's gone). Write the arguments (never resolved). Write the advice (better remember it, there won't be more). Write the good times.

4 hours alone and I came up with a couple of pages.

As I said before, I am new with funerals. Wakes, on the other hand, I know very well. There are two things to do at a wake. They are as follows:

1. Comfort the survivors
2. Don't say anything stupid.

The following things are stupid things to say at a wake:

• "Well, she was old anyway."
• "The family didn't know what to do with her."
• "Hey, how bout those Mets?"
• "Do you think it was contagious?"
• "Went just like his dad."
• "How long is this thing?"
• "Dibs on his furniture."
• "Can I eat in here?"

If you find yourself tempted on saying any of the above, just keep quiet. And that is the best thing to do - JUST KEEP QUIET. Saying, you'll miss the deceased is usually a good start. Keep with that if you knew the deceased. If you did not know the deceased, offer your condolences or offer your time or energy if they ever need your company or support.

Remember, that you are there not only to honor the deceased by to support the surviors.

Little Grandma's wake was delayed one day due to a bizzard. Who knew? The storm came out of nowhere. Between my father and I we knew that it was her doing. "You didn't want to visit me in life, well..."

The wakes came and the wakes went. I saw a lot of my relatives and my grandmother's neighbors. The snow came back the day of the funeral.

I delivered my eulogy in the church. It was to the point and delivered from my heart. I placed some well timed jokes in the body and found myself only almost breaking down once. The congregation and my father seemed happy with it. I thought it could have been better. But it seemed to be good enough for everyone else.

I then was introduced to two completely new experiences. The experience of being a pall bearer and the experience of driving in a funeral procession.

The experience of being a pall bearer on an icy walk is a frightening experience. Because if you go down, everyone, including the deceased, goes down with you. Let me just tell you that leather soled shoes and ice don't mix. There were no incidents with the casket but afterward, I came close to making a couple of spills.

The funeral procession then had to travel from the church in Howell, NJ, to the cemetary in West New York, NJ (about 80 miles away) via the New Jersey Turnpike, Route 9, and the Garden State Parkway. Now the idea of a funeral procession is to drive with headlights on in a line of cars that must remain uninterrupted from church to cemetary.

That was not going to happen.

We tried. Oh GOD! We tried. The good people of New Jersey don't seem to recognise funerals as being a legitimate line of cars. We were separated many times, reformed, separated, and reformed. Eventually, we got to the cemetary

Even as I remember it with a colder eye, I can't help think how sad the burial was. Not because my grandmother was being buried. No, that wasn't it. I was sad because, it was about 30 degrees below zero with the wind chill factor. As much as we wanted to stay with my grandmother to have her buried, it was rushed. There were several older women that really couldn't negotiate well on frozen tundra and the weather would not allow everyone to stay and greive outside. Someone came around to each of the cars and said the mourners would all meet at a specific restaurant and we all went there to eat.

Since that time, I have only been to two other funerals. One was last year, for my father's best friend, Joe. This was sad because my father had lost two of his best friends within a week. I went to be with my father and to pay my respects.

The last funeral I went to was today, for "Big Grandma" - my mother's mother.

She just celebrated her 90th birthday earlier in the month. She had a unique ability to make a person feel like they were the most important person in the world. If you lost weight, she'd tell you you'd gained it. If you'd gained weight, she'd tell you you'd lost it. In all of my life, I can only think of two occasions where there was no smile on her face. One was at Little Grandma's wake and the other was the death of my Aunt Ann.

Her intestine developed a perforation. She died within 24 hours of the diagnosis. At 90 years old, surgery was not an option.

My Irish grandmother lived a full life with 3 children, 15 grandchildren, and 27 great grandchildren. The funeral was performed by her nephew, one of the two preists that married my wife and I. The eulogy was given by my cousin, James. James gave a eulogy that was similar to the one I delivered. He gave the congregation glimpses into the woman we all knew.

They were memories we found again like an old trunk in an attic long neglected. They were hidden behind a smile we thought we'd never see again and wrapped around us like a flannel blanket that would keep warm and feeling good.

Rest in peace Grandma.

* - In my entire life, I have only had one occassion to feel nothing over the passing of another human being. An old boss of mine, who screwed me over pretty good passed away of a brain hemorrage. As it was a part of his anatomy he never used, I found it ironic. My opinion is that if I didn't like them in life, the feeling would never improve with their passing.

**- Don't laugh. Pet cemeteries will have a ceremony for the more ignored member of your household. In my opinion, if your dog was part of your family, he deserved the same treatment. Having a funeral, wake, and burial for Casey provided closure for myself and my wife.

Dedicated to the memories of Anna Peruzzi and Catherine O'Halloran.