CHAPTER 6
THE FUNERAL
We all went to the funeral home several days later. It was a glorious, sunny September day. The sun was warm on my face. I was reminded of that first fishing trip and how much the day seemed like that one. I didn’t know what to expect. We entered the room where Grampy lay. I walked up to the casket. This didn’t look like Grampy. They dressed him in a suit. Where were the flannel shirt and those cigars in the pocket? The rosary beads were wrapped around his hands. He would have liked that. He was pale and rigid. This was a shell of the man I knew. This body was only a receptacle for the spirit of the wonderful man I loved. I began to understand the concept of a soul being in our bodies. It made sense that if the soul left us, it had to go somewhere. The whole idea of a soul going to heaven was what Grampy taught me. I think he was right.
There was a veil over the casket where you viewed the body. It actually seemed to be a kind of barrier between the body and those viewing the dead. I was standing by the casket when they lifted the veil. Now there was nothing between me and Grampy. I stood as close to the casket as I could stand, leaned over, and I whispered, “I love you Grampy and I always will. Thank you for everything you did for me.”
I touched his hand for one last time. His hand was cold. This just helped confirm that this was only the shell of the man I knew. Somehow I was comforted because I knew his soul is what mattered and it was gone. Hopefully, he had gone to a happy place with no suffering, a place where his mortal body could no longer fail him. The thought that one day I would join him on the other side was consoling.
The service began but I really don’t recall much about the actual service. I was too focused on all of my wonderful memories. Dad asked me if I would be a pallbearer. He told me it would make Grampy very happy and proud. How could I turn down a chance to be by Grampy’s side one last time? We carried the casket to the hearse, placed Grampy inside, and walked to our cars. Back in 1964 it was common to drive by the deceased’s house for one last pass on the way to the cemetery. We passed the doughnut shop where Grampy bought the doughnuts he always brought us. There was the porch where we sat in the fall and watched the leaves dance to the ground. If I closed my eyes I could still smell the aroma of tobacco coming from inside the house. Today it seemed like cigars.
Once we got to the cemetery, we took Grampy to his final resting place. We placed the casket above the grave. The priest said some words but I never heard them. I was still reminiscing and thinking what a great man Grampy was.
I wondered if there was some kind of sign Grampy could send from the other side that he was okay. I didn’t know that much about death to know if that was even possible. The grave diggers stood off to the side waiting for the ceremony to finish. Once the people left they would lower the casket and fill in the grave. My eyes were fixed on the casket as I wondered if Grampy was happy. All of a sudden, that familiar aroma of his tobacco filled the air. Was I imagining it? No I wasn’t. I looked up and one of the grave diggers was smoking a cigar. It was a “Swisher Sweets.” Was this my sign that Grampy was fine? Was he letting me know he was safe? Surely something that gave him as much pleasure as those cigars would mean everything was good. Signs come in subtle ways. They are never enough to allow us to make an unequivocal conclusion. But they are enough to make us wonder. Once again, this was the faith Grampy told me about; accepting God and the hereafter because we choose to accept it without proof. I decided this was too coincidental not to be a sign. My faith actually was making me feel better.
As the ceremony ended and the diggers came over and lowered Grampy to his final resting place, I stared at the casket one last time. The only words I could think to whisper were the words Grampy used so many times before.
“Don’t worry Grampy. Trust in God. It will be alright. “And it was.
CONCLUSION
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