Grieve How You Want

I’m sure there’s lots of cool families out there, but I’m pretty partial to mine. They are compassionate, practical, smart, hard working, and so funny. And there’s nothing like a challenging circumstance to see them shine.

My grandpa died on Christmas day. He was 94 and had an excellent life, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t sad. There’s no right or wrong way to grieve. As long as you aren’t fucking with the vibes of others dealing with their own grief. Humor may not be a part of every family’s grief process, but it’s such a part of our family’s every day…it’s bound to show up.

This was the first close loss for my boys. I think they got a great example of how to manage it. The Father did a great job of reminding us all of the afterlife and comforting us in prayer. Grammie stood next and started her speech thanking him. She then said that that my Grandpa thought he deserved a Catholic funeral because he’d gone to church so much with my grammie when she’d been alive. My mom said that when she’d told Grandpa she wasn’t sure if that could happen he responded with “God Dammit, Sandi!”

That’s right. In a chapel following a priest’s sermon, my mom used her best grandpa imitation to curse like that. Maybe surprising to some, but it was exactly what should have happened. She went on to talk about how thankful she was to have gotten to really know her dad so much more over the last 4 years. Any remaining dry eyes succumbed to her eloquence.

The next speeches also had their own perfect balance of humor and reverence. Uncle George started with a mock protest saying that his sister stole all the words he was going say.

Humor is a baseline coping mechanism for my extended family. And even though there was great homage and honor for the exceptional man lost; humor peppered the day in many speeches and events.

After the ceremony at the graveside, Uncle George asked us to shush because he said he thought he heard knocking from the casket. Family members who’ve wondered how deep graves are peered over the edge. Other family members taunted them that they may fall in. A spontaneous thought that there should be carvings on the super cool barnwood casket resulted in the instantaneous presentation of numerous pocket knives and etchings.

The funeral director advised that now was the time to leave if you didn’t want to see the casket lowered. Most stayed. Much to the chagrin (or delight) of the cemetery chief, Arnie.

“Arnie! Don’t drop him.”

Arnie dropped his shoulders and slowly shook his head saying, “I wish you hadn’t said that” as though he worried we just willed it in to being.

Arnie got a little more heckling. Josh pointed out that the poor guy has probably had to hear the same #dadjokes or #funeraljokes over and over and had to pretend they’re funny and creative every time. Grammie talked to Arnie about her plot. “I took my picture lying on it.” Arnie replied, “I know. I remember.” I’m going to guess there’s not a lot of folks who’ve taken their picture lying on their future cemetery plot so it must have been easy for him to remember. Family members continued to throw zingers. As each wicked sharp quip was delivered, I thought about how Grandpa wouldn’t want it any other way.

Thankfully the body that no longer encased the soul of my Grandpa made it through the lowering process without incident. And the entire day was a great tribute to a really cool dude who will be missed greatly.

I’m sure there are folks who have no humor while burying a loved one. That’s okay. But for me and mine, that day and that place will be still filled with happy memories of a life well lived.