This is a story I tell often but I don't think here. I go into a lot of houses. I think I'm at 70,000 plus over the last 22 years. That leads to a lot of conversations. For some reason this one comes up often and is one of my favorites.
It usually starts with a comment of how my family is more redneck than their family. I play what they think is the ace card first. I tell them that my family is so redneck that I had an uncle get into a bar fight and get stabbed by a sword. One, most of society doesn't get into bar fights, but who the berk brings a sword to a bar?
That usually wins the my family is more redneck but then I follow up with "Let me tell you about my Grandmother's funeral."
My grandmother passed several years ago. We knew it was coming so I wasn't surprised. My dad called me and told me what had happened so I made plans to head up to SC for the funeral. I also have a brother and sister. They are technically my step brother and sister but we grew up together so they are my brother and sister. I'm the youngest with my sister a year older and my brother 6 years older.
I got into town the night before late. The next morning I left my truck at the grave site because I knew I didn't want to stay for the southern town after funeral family gathering. I drive my Dad's Honda to the funeral home because he'll be riding in the family limo to the grave site and will need it afterwards. First let me say that I moved away from this town at least 30 years before the funeral. My dad was a middle school principal in the town so he knows everyone. They all came to the funeral to pay respects.
It's a southern tradition that the family stands in a line before the casket to greet the people showing up. It's normally the kids of the deceased person and their eldest son. For some reason I was put beside my dad. I'm looking around for my brother to say wtf why aren't you here and he gives me the better you than me look. I spent the next couple of hours saying "Hi I'm Michael, I'm Jacky's son." while shaking the hand of the person I may or may not know and then turning to the next person in line. My niece still gives me E36 M3 about it and repeats that phrase because yeah that's not how I wanted to spend my Grandmother's funeral.
The first strange thing that happened was the ex-wife of my cousin. My cousin is a good man. Salt of the earth type. He married young and they settled down the have a family. The firstborn was a son that looks just like him. A twin born 20 years later. The next two didn't look like him at all. Turns out his ex was cheating and they weren't his kids. My cousin being the man he is stayed their dad even after the divorce. It's men like him that I look up to. Anyway his ex shows up in the line and is surprised that I recognize her. It was just a little weird of how she reacted to me knowing her name and remembering her. I guess that was the first step of my brain turning.
As I'm standing there repeating "Hi, I'm Michael, I'm Jacky's son.", I see my step uncle. For some reason, probably my brain turning from above, I say to myself "You know he doesn't look a lot like my step mom and her twin sister." A few months preceding the funeral it came out that my brother and sister weren't full brother and sister. They were actually half brother and sister. Seems my step mom had gotten pregnant in high school and the dad didn't want anything to do with her afterwards. A man stepped in and claimed my brother as his and married her. They then had my sister later.
As I'm standing there contemplating the ways of the southern world my other cousin shows up. She's a year older than me and has lived a hard life. Most of her adult life has been in and out of jail and on drugs. When her dad died several years before they couldn't find her until several days after his funeral. She and I were close when we were young. She had been sexually abused at a very young age and I think I'm the only one that she told. Unfortunately I was too young myself to know what to do. I can tell that she's high and that the family is judging her with their looks. I decide that I'm going to be someone that accepts her for her and not what's happened to her in life.
About this same time my great uncle shows up. He's touched as the southerner's like to say. Others would say that he's a little slow. He and I always connected because his job was a armor car driver and he drove down to Charleston where I was born often. Uncle Gene was also hard of hearing and spoke loudly because of it. When he saw me and came up he started yelling as normal asking me how I was doing and such. The funeral director at this time announced that the "viewing" would be close to the family. That meant that it was the last chance to go up and look at Grandmother in her casket. I haven't mentioned this yet but I don't do that. I don't want to see a dead body sitting in a casket. I want to remember that person for who they were.
I'm standing there and trying to figure out how the hell am I going to avoid going up the casket when it hits me. I saw Uncle Gene had already gone up to view Grandmother. I yelled loudly "Uncle Gene, have you seen Grandmother? Do you want to go up there?" He responded "No I already did!" so I yelled back "Ok Uncle Gene let's move over here so that the others can go up and see her." There that was my pass. Not only did I not have to go up there but everyone else was looking at me in thanks for getting Uncle Gene and his loud voice away from the crowd.
My high cousin followed us over as I think she felt safe away from the rest. Afterwards we went into the chapel. They had of course moved my grandmother to the front of the chapel and the preacher started preaching. Now the southerners here will know how a funeral preaching should go. You talk about the good the person did and how God is going to accept them into heaven. This preacher went off the script. He starts out ok. Then he gets to the part where he talks about how good she was at raising the grandkids. That's the first thing my mind says ok ... and I think well yeah the grandkids were at her house all the time because most of her kids were in bars and out having fun but hey I'll let that pass. Then he had the come to Jesus speech. He spent most of his sermon talking about how Grandmother would have wanted all of her grandkids to come to Jesus. As he went on and on it was obvious he was talking about my high cousin sitting beside me. Berk dude this is my Grandmother's funeral not your time for glory trying to save soul.
Finally it's over at least I think. We all file out of the chapel and head to our cars. As I get to my dad's Honda my sister ask me if I can give her a ride to the grave site. Sure get in and we're the first car behind the family limo. As we're going along I decide to bring up her uncle and how he looks different from her mom. She replies "Oh haven't you heard? We just found out that they are half brother/sisters." Ok well that's what my eye was telling me. Then she says "Have you heard that I cheated again?" See my sister had cheated on her husband a few years back and it was weird. Like he made her renew their vows and kneel before him as the suburbient wife. Then she said "Yeah I guess we're all sluts. It's in our genes." Alrighty then let's move on.
Thankfully we got to the grave site and everything there went well. I got in my truck and headed out of town. I told this story for the first time several hours later when I group text my friends saying "My Grandmother passed but this isn't about that. Let me tell you a story."
