I usually hear the following story at least once a year, prior to my Auntie Margaret's annual visit to my parents' house for my cousin Samara's dance performance at The Magical Theme Park near My Small Town. Dad and my Auntie Margaret, my mother's younger sister who was a teenager at the time, got into some kind of tiff just before my parents' wedding 39 years ago. She shrieked, Blood is thicker than water! Blood is thicker than water!
Auntie Margaret has mellowed out quite a bit since then, and we all chuckle when this story is retold. It's funny how time has a way of making teenagers tolerable people again.
Sidebar-- I tell myself this each and every day I am at work, and quite often I attempt to soothe parents with the words, This too shall pass.
As I explained in Family... Affairs, my incredible 93 year-old grandmother passed away in March. I drove up to Georgia, had dinner with my friend Sean (whom I love) just south of Atlanta, and then continued the rest of the journey to my Auntie Mary and Uncle Jim's house a bit north of Atlanta. I talked with them until midnight, at which time they went to bed, exhausted from the week's events. I stayed up to wait for my parents to arrive safely. I didn't have to wait long. They got in a few minutes later and we all hit the sack.
The next day we attended my grandmother's viewing, which is also chronicled in Family... Affairs. As we were leaving the viewing, my Uncle Paul asked me if I had a copy of the passage I would be reading at the funeral. (Someone had decided that the three oldest granddaughters would be reading because the boys would be pallbearers. I am the second-oldest granddaughter.)
No... not yet.
Well... you must get a copy, and you must read it three times, out loud. Got it?
Yes, Uncle Paul-- three times.
OUT LOUD.
Okay, three times, out loud. I've got it.
My Auntie Jo had the readings in her car, so she went outside to get mine. I was to read Ecclesiastes, 3:1-14, which is the A time to sow, a time to reap... passage that we so often hear. It was a great selection. I practiced reading the next morning.
Three times.
Out loud.
I dressed, did my hair, and put on a black wool Ann Taylor dress that I hadn't been able to wear in at least two years. I felt numb. I had felt numb ever since I had heard the news.
I don't like feeling numb. I'd much rather feel bad than feel nothing... but there you have it. I was in survival mode. I was also in counselor mode. It's so much easier to help others with their grief than it is to deal with my own. I figured I would grieve in time. Helping my mom and my sister were my priorities.
When we got to the church, my Uncle Paul greeted me with a hug and a whisper in my ear, There's been a change of plans. Come with me.
Okayyyyy.
As we walked into the church, he told me I had been given the wrong reading. At least, in the program my cousin Marie had been credited with the Ecclesiastes reading. So, he gave me a copy with the reading I was supposed to read, and I went off to a corner to practice.
Three times.
Out loud.
A short time later, we were taking our seats for the funeral Mass. Each of my cousins wound up sitting directly behind their parents. Sis and I did the same, even though it put me in the middle of the pew, which would be inconvenient for getting up during the service for the reading, but I knew I could manage. When Marie took her place at the lectern, she stumbled over the word Ecclesiastes. As she began to read the passage, she burst into tears and left the alter. We were all stunned. I was ready to spring into action, but I wanted to be sure I was doing the right thing. I touched my dad's shoulder. He looked at me, Go... go!
My Uncle Jim, Marie's father, was about to get up and I softly reassured, I've got this.
I read the First Reading. My voice held steady. When it was time to return to the alter, I read the Second Reading. I then bowed and returned to my seat. I was shaking when I sat down.
Marie told me later than perhaps if she had witnessed my composure before trying to get up and read she may be been able to go through with it. No sweat, Marie. I love to read in public. And it hasn't sunk in yet, so I'm kind of numb. I was happy to help out.
We drove to the cemetery, accompanied by police escorts, watching the folks in small town Georgia pull over in their cars until we passed. Even the folks on the opposite side of the road. I had never seen that before. What grace.
That night, our family had a party. We drank wine, munched on funeral food and m&m's, and just enjoyed being together. My mother is one of seven. It is very rare that everyone is in the same place at once. I hated the reason, but I was glad to be able to spend time with my cousins. Misunderstandings were aired out, and there was a bit of whispering about what was to come.
Grandma was a woman of means with a fairly complicated estate. She had done a lot to prepare for her passing, but there was still much to do. As we suspected might happen, there has been a fair amount of internal combustion in the family. Someone asked me recently if I had heard the latest, and I explained, The Single Family is officially The Neutral Zone.
Ah... I see.
Being in Florida, we are out of the action, and we only know what we hear through the grapevine. One aunt called my mother a few weeks ago and tried to draw her into the fray. I told Mom, You need to tell her that we are in Florida, and we are happy! We don't want any part of the drama.
My mother has shed tears more than once over this whole situation. It's bad enough that she has lost her mother. She is a sensitive, loving person. She is the reason we are... The Neutral Zone.
We wouldn't have it any other way.
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