Na, na. hey, hey, kiss him goodbye...

tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10011127.post-78737837614892353752008-03-18T19:11:00.004-04:002008-03-18T19:33:24.604-04:00Na, na. hey, hey, kiss him goodbye...My Uncle Johnny passed away last Wednesday in Florida, and since he was originally from up here, his family brought his body back here to be buried and I just spent the afternoon at the funeral home. Nothing like death to bring out relatives one hasn't seen in decades. Uncle Johnny had Parkinson's and Alzheimer's, so technically he was "gone" long time ago. I last saw him about four years ago when I was in Florida visiting my other relatives who live in the area. Uncle J. was puttering around the yard mumbling to himself, his head twitching back and forth, trying to fix a non-existent lawnmower. The body in the box this afternoon didn't make any impression on me, heartless as that may sound. The spirit of Uncle J. has moved on. No sense crying over a wax doll. My mother at not-quite-89 is now the oldest living member of the clan that once included 14 siblings. Grandma died when I was six years old, but from what I remember and pictures, she always looked like hell. No wonder after popping out and caring for all that brood. Uncle J. is #5 to have crossed over, tho he was younger than Ma. The Mister got off easy today as he had to give lessons, but tomorrow he will join me as we leave the house at an ungodly hour in order to pick up Ma and Pa and drive back at the funeral home by 10:30 AM to say one last Na, Na, Hey, Hey to Uncle J. before they close the box on him. The off to some church for a funeral mass, then a trip to the cemetery, than back to the vicinity of the funeral home for a lunch/wake thing. The Mister isn't too happy about devoting a good chunk of the day to my relatives, especially since it involves putting on something other than his customary Levis and tee shirt, and worst of all, sitting through a funeral Mass. Gah, I haven't been inside a church since... um, probably the last time some relative died years ago. A priest came to the funeral home this afternoon and did a quickie service thing. I was still able to recall and recite all the correct responses along with the rest of the folks. The Catholic Church is truly like the Hotel California, you can check any time you like, out but you can never leave.... <a href="http://www.technorati.com/tag/News" rel="tag"></a>, <a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" href="http://www.technorati.com/tag/Blog" rel="tag">Blog</a>, <a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" href="http://www.technorati.com/tag/Life" rel="tag">Life</a>, <a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" href="http://www.technorati.com/tag/Humor" rel="tag">Humor</a>,Sharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15603199859801356361noreply@blogger.com