The funeral went well. There was a moment, as one of the pallbearers, that I almost broke into tears upon seeing my grandmother's body. It was strange because up until that point, including when I first heard the news, I didn't break down. But seeing her in the casket hit me like a ton of bricks.
There wasn't a lot of intense crying at the funeral, but I think on some level that's because most of us had had a few years time to prepare for my grandmother's death. She'd been on the decline for some time, coming in and out of a lucid state in which she was able to recall events and people, and talk.
The sermon was good, but I get the strong feeling the pastor could feel my atheism beaming off of me. I didn't clap hard enough, didn't dance or praise the lord enough. I think the real giveaway was that some woman sitting behind me patted me on the shoulder saying "we're here to praise the lord" and I looked at her as if she was a ball of writhing green and orange tentacles that had just asked me to cut my balls off so that she could use them for a hat.
Yeah, not a good expression for someone sitting in the front row.
How do I know he noticed? He looked dead at me in the middle of his sermon and said: "I'm talking to the grandson." Later, looking dead at me he said, "I'd like you to stand... if you're a true believer." He's not a dumb man, obviously.
Luckily he was more focused on giving a good service than confronting my near decade long absence from church, so there's that. It was lovely, if a little warm, outside when we carried her casket to it's final resting place. It was blue, which was apparently her favorite color.
It's so strange that she's gone. It's the first time someone this close to me has left like this. I'm not quite over it, but there's still a part of me that thinks that death just isn't necessary, that it isn't fair.
Well, now I'm sitting in the house where I grew up, getting ready to do some light to moderate drinking with my family and friends close and distant. But right now I'm thinking of the woman whose life just came to a close. The wise-cracking, whiskey-drinking gambler who was also a sweet-as-pie kind and loving grandmother to me and mother to my Mom.
Here's to you, Mary Killings. I commemorate your name and memory to the blockchain, where I hope it will live forever.
Tonight, I'll be kicking back a whiskey just for you.
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