I am in no way happy he is gone but it's hard to get too upset about a man who lived well and long.
Here was my day in a nutshell including some learnings:
- The Priest seemed to be no older than 25 and had a a pretty big accent. He called my grandfather ARfonso and claimed to be a Cath-o-RIC. That was awkward.
- I accidentally punked my cousin by shoving her into the aisle as relatives passed us to follow the casket. I am not a Cath-o-RIC so I don't know the customs. My cousin, by marriage, followed the casket to the back of the church, then back down the aisle, with my encouragement. When she realized I had not followed her she held up a fist and damned my name. When she returned to her seat next to me I received a pretty major stink eye. I leaned over and whispered "Sucker!".
- I learned that my Dad's aunt is still pretty mad at him for dying. If there is an afterlife, my Dad can expect to receive some pretty firm words from his Aunt when she next sees him. Run, Daddy, run!
- I watched my brother act as pall bearer and noticed that our family is quite tall and they all had to lean way down to wheel that casket around on the gurney.
- I broke down once when I saw my sweet aunts cry. That really got to me.
- Cath-o-RICS really like to talk about how the Jews killed Jesus... a lot. It gets very old very fast.
- The only woman allowed to help in the service seemed to have been given mere alter boy status. That was lame.
- The Cath-o-RICS REALLY do NOT want you to take communion if you are not a practicing Cath-o-RIC OR have never been a Cath-o-RIC. Don't even think about it.