Funerals AFTER the Fact Funny, seriously

15 February 2010

269

R. Linda:

I was told that a friend of mine's sister's husband's aunt's brother's grandfather's, cousin's, nephew's friend died and at the wake, the family walked in to find someone else's body in the casket. It was all a mess, the flowers were right, and everything was right except the corpse.

This reminded me of the fiasco when me sainted Auntie Moya died. I didn't even know she was sick, the next thing I knew she was no longer with us. I hadn't seen her for years, she was living in the very south of Ireland and as I grew up and pursued life, I lost contact with her. I would see me cousin Connor (you remember him, of twit fame) occasionally, but he never mentioned much about our relatives when I saw him. Now Moya was the youngest of my father's side, Auntie June (the sailor) being the eldest, then me Da, then Auntie Moya.

Now Auntie Moya used to spoil yours truly when I was growing up. I don't know if it was because she saw the shortcomings in her own son Connor (of which there were many) and thought me an angel, which she referred to me as such, I always thought it was because of me moniker, just saying Gabriel would conjure images of an angel. Uh-huh.

I thought I resembled her more than me Da and because she was so sweet to me, I passed her off as me own Ma a lot. Now Mam did not know this, and to this day I never told her that. But Auntie Moya was me favourite auntie when I was growing up and because she let me do whatever I liked, and me Ma was the strict hand of the law, I naturally liked passing her off as the real thing, though the real thing would have tanned me behind had she only known what I be up to.

So in me heart of hearts there was a place for me Auntie M and when she passed, and the surprise and guilt of not visiting wore off, I made sure to attend the wake and funeral.

Now the whole family had lined up for this farewell to Moya. Every O'Sullivan, Sullivan and even a few Monahans and Finnegans made it down to the outskirts of Kenmare for the gathering. There was cousin Connor the first person I saw, all in tears and such, and I did me twit best to be nice and say the right things. I even stood next to him during the wee ceremony held on the sunporch.

Now let me give you the low down on Irish wakes. Nowadays there are funeral homes and all where all the planning be done, but there are some old-fashioned ways still in existence where all is handled at the home of the deceased. This was one of those cases. Off the kitchen was a porch Uncle Connor had enclosed with windows he picked up from some farmer who was throwing them out. He did a fairly decent job of shoring up the old porch and installing the windows. This way in the warm months they could sit out there and enjoy the scenery and be bug-free! This room was made into Auntie Moya's viewing room, where she was laid out in a very fine casket with a Claddagh carved on the lid, and this was open on a large caisson supplied by Dooley's Funeral Home in town. It was all draped lovely at the bottom with candles at either end.

Family and friends made their way in from the lounge area, passed Auntie, and out into the kitchen where be the food. Yes, you said your goodbyes and then went and had a cuppa tea and a scone or two. Once everyone had passed by, and had a cuppa, we gathered as many on the sunporch as could be accommodated and the rest watched from the doorways. A small talk about me Auntie was said, much soft weeping and then the casket was closed and the men took her to the hearse where we all followed for church service, then the graveside service, and then back to the house for more substantial food, and a celebration of Auntie's life with storytelling and many hoistings of the drink!

But let me go back to the solemn passing by the casket. Auntie June had arrived and she was in the kitchen putting out some food with me sainted Mam. She says to me Mam, "Where is Moya?" Me Mam continued with placing the food out and glanced at the sunporch and said, "She's out on the sunporch."

"Well, get herself in here, this be her house she should be helping instead of carousing out there."

Me sainted Mam looked over at June, somewhat confounded. Lost for words she stood there shocked still trying to process what was going on.

Cousin Connor had heard this as he was walking in. He looked at me and I shrugged, I had no clue. We three choose to ignore the remark.

"Really, here we are and where is she?" June said fussing with the tea things.

"Aunt June, me Mam be dead. She passed remember?" Connor said.

"What?" June looked up as if she had been smacked a good one. Then it came back and she started sobbing over the tea cakes, so I moved her back from table (couldn't have soggy, salty, tea cakes now could we?) and between Mam and I, we tried to console her. Connor stood there looking confused.

We took her out to the sunporch and well, that started the wailing and hair renting and recriminations and all manner of things. Everyone who had been milling about came flooding out to see what was going on, and of course, there was a bit of a show out there, June shaking the corpse trying to wake it up, but there was no salty language for which we were thankful, but all the same Connor and I had to grab hold of her to keep her from dragging Moya out of the coffin. Finally, with me father's help we got her back into the kitchen where there was a small fire going in the hearth and sat her crying self down with a cuppa and a shot of Jameson.

I thought we were done with this, until the priest, Father McDonnagh was giving his remembrance talk on the sunporch before we left for the funeral mass. He was saying how Auntie Moya had helped with the church Sunday school, how she was always cheery and supportive of any member in need of a helping hand or a good listening ear. In the middle of this, Auntie June woke up (that is the only way to describe it) and muttered, "Well, if she's so caring why isn't she in here comforting us?"

UH-DUH. We were standing in front of an open casket, HELLO!

Me father had put his arm around Junie, gave her a squeeze and said some words to the effect, it be all right, if Moya could comfort us all she would have. Yup, and for the moment it was all right, but seriously Da?

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, Uncle Connor was sitting at the table looking over his medications. He picked up one medicine bottle and looked at it. Mam asked if he needed some help, well yes he did. The doctor had given him a mild sedative and he couldn't remember if he took it or not with all the excitement of Auntie June shaking Auntie Moya and all on the sunporch. Was it any wonder? Cousin Connor was standing there watching all this when his father decided maybe he didn't take the medication and opened the bottle.

"Are ya troyin' ta kill yersel Da?"

"Con, I need to take these, I do, this is bean too mooch," Uncle says and shoves the tablet in and throws it down with a shot of Bushmills.

"Oh, an for sure, that'll do it with the whisky chaser Da. Are you troyin' fer a twofer?"

Well, Mam looked at me and I looked at her, it was so bizarre. Cousin leaned over took the meds and then took a look around the table and found three more medicine bottles filled with medication. He looked at us and held them up nodding.

"He needs these as well. So, now he's mixed himself up with all of them. I should just throw him in with me Ma because by the time we get to the church, he'll be done."

OH MY!

The church service went without a hitch, Uncle Connor managed to be somewhat alert for it, but for one thing, there was an unusual bunch of people who were waiting at the church as we arrived. They were mostly men all wearing black armbands and obviously were there for me uncle's benefit. I turned to Mam and said, "Are those IRA?"

She quickly hushed me and looked down shaking her head I should be quiet.

It was the strangest funeral. These men took over from the funeral director's pallbearers and got the casket into the church and once it was set by the altar, they came in groups to pay their respects as the priest waited patiently on the other side of the altar.

Me sainted Mam mumbled to me Da, "In all me born days, I've never seen the like. What IS Connor into?"

Me Da pursed his lips, his eyebrows were somewhere hiding in his hairline and he did not quite know what to make of it either. He was thinking not what was Connor into, but what had his SISTER been into.

There was no peep out of me Auntie June the entire mass, but the ride to the cemetery more than made up for it. We had Auntie June with us, me Mam, Da, Sissy, the Dolan person husband, and meself. We started the short drive to the resting place and Junie was in tears she was, but then she says, "Damn it! Where the feck is Moya? I haven't seen her and this is so like her, throw a party and then don't show up, go to a flick."

OH MY. So Da explained to her that Moya had passed and this news seemed all new to me Auntie June. When, she asked, how, she asked, why didn't anyone tell her? Oh but me Da persisted in all those questions with answers that a baby could understand he simplified it all.

After the graveside services, we got back to the cars for the ride back to the house and me cousins were standing around Connor and his father and we joined them, when Auntie June piped up, "Where's your mother at, Connor?"

"SHE'S DEAD!" Connor lost it. "We just buried her! She passed two days ago!"

Which put Auntie into small pathetic sobs. We took off to the house and Mam told her she should have a lie-down, we'd take care of everything with Connor Sr. and Jr. Well, she wasn't for a lie-down, instead, she would keep busy with replenishing the food. Well, all right then.

People gathered in the lounge, the kitchen and the sunporch which had been cleared of the funeral stuff, and for a time Auntie was busy preparing food and laying them out and such.

After most of the mourners left to go home, we were making our final sympathies to Connor Sr. and Jr. when Auntie June, turban newly put on, coat on, purse being riffled for a clean hankie, gives Connor Sr. a peck on the cheek and then with her two hands, one holding the hankie, grabs Connor Jr.'s cheeks and gives a big squeeze to which I could see that really hurt! She says to him, "Tell your Mam, she works too hard at that church, we missed seeing her."

To which he grabbed her hands from his very red smarting cheeks, and holding his face to hers, he says, "Aunt June, ME MA'S DEAD!"

I think she got it that time. She stood there looking up at him, tears welling over in her eyes and shaking her head no.

Me father took gentle hold of her, "Come now Junie, we need go."

He and me Mam took her in their car for the long ride home of which I was glad I was going with me sissy and the Dolan person, because I can well imagine what that ride home was like. BUT me sissy had a great deal of fun with it. We were stopping at a bed and breakfast for the night as it was quite late, and the drive a long one. All the way to the B and B she kept asking me, "So where's your Auntie Moya at?" She went into fits of laughter, and I mentioned the black arm band-wearing men. Her eyes got all big and she said, "Wasn't that something? Do ye tink Auntie was a member? I mean why would they all be there? For Uncle Connor maybe? But didn't seem like it, they were generally upset at her passing." This got us contemplative and to this day we still don't know what that was about. Was she or wasn't she? Auntie June, well nary a mention of any of it. No more asking where Moya was, I guess out of sight, out of mind, or as Sheila says, "Out of her mind."

Gabe
Copyright © 2010 All rights reserved