The Funeral Thread

This is the thread for all your best funeral stories!!!!!!! Let it rip!

Today, the news will be all about Congressman Elijah Cummings. OMG, CNN pundits and MSNBC pundits are all wearing black today. They’re all using their low and somber voice. By the end of the day, I’m betting, someone will blame the death “dear sweet Elijah” on President Trump. Would anyone be dumb enough to take that bet? After the debacle of the McCain and Bush funerals, I’ve decided to be proactive about the DC funeral process, and make it FUN! Of course, no disrespect intended.

This should get you all in the mood: Remember, we’re supposed to be mourning.

Of course, we have to have food for a funeral. There are older people in our town who go to every funeral in the newspaper, just for a good meal. Funerals in the south are an outright feast. And yes, we have “funeral food”. Tops on the list is green bean casserole.

And since the 1960’s, deviled eggs are required funeral food. At our church, for every funeral, Grandma Della was assigned the deviled eggs. Since Grandma died, I assumed the deviled egg responsibility (it’s a heavy burden), and I even have the deviled egg plate.

Grandma Della’s funeral was the best funeral I’ve been to in the last 20yrs. She was a community grandma to all my girlfriends so they all knew her. We had a great time. She lived a good and full life, no tragedy, no one wailing and crying. We even lit fireworks late in the evening. Heck, I didn’t go to bed until 4:30am, finally tucked in by one of my best girlfriends.

The best mock funeral we ever did was for Michael Jackson. I dragged out the Halloween mock casket decoration for the occasion and bought some flowers from Wal-Mart for it. It was terrific and a fitting tribute. We all agreed to wear black, and something that had sequins in it. One of my girlfriends went all out and wore a black lace shroud looking thing. We wailed and moaned along with the news and then we danced. We ate well and danced some more…. cuz, it was Michael Jackson. We drank Bloody Marys all day long. Ahhh yes, Michael Jackson’s funeral was Grade A at our house.

My Funeral Story of How I Met Big T’s Family– please add your wild funeral stories as well.

Funerals in the north are just not the same, unless it’s a real Irish wake, and then it’s fun. Big T has an enormous family. Before we got married, the wife of his favorite cousin, Dee, died suddenly from a brain aneurysm at age 51. Dee and I were very close and I had my doubts about her husband’s ability to pull off a fitting funeral (Dee was the engine who owned the biz, made decisions for the family). As soon as we got the news about her death, we immediately flew to Boston. Dee’s husband and kids were a wreck, and the details of the funeral were turned over to me. I was far enough removed.

In the south, when a funeral occurs, we keep a legal pad and good pen, 0n the center hall table by the front door. This way we can write names down for everyone who brings food or houseplants, so we can send them a thank you note after the funeral. For my Grandpa’s funeral, I wrote 179 thank you notes. Grandma Della’s funeral, all my girlfriends wrote the notes with me so I can’t remember how many there were….. lots.

For Dee’s funeral, one neighbor brought the family some purchased Oreo cookies. What the h3ll? That was it? Who were these cold and calloused people? Big T tried to dampen my expectations about northern funerals, but I was miffed. The prior year, Dee was voted the top biz woman in the whole state. She was a powerhouse with an infectious laugh and above all, she was a straight shooter. Loved her. Her husband was lost, Big T’s favorite relative. It was hard. After assessing the immediate situation at her house, we went back to our house and I made 28 quarts of chicken pot pie filling, killer recipe, with a light French tarragon sauce. It was the best and biggest stock pot I’ve ever owned. Big T bought it for me on sale, a real prize. He helped me cook late into the night, I mean, someone had to eat, right?

Next day was the inventory of the clothing, meeting with funeral directors, and trip to the florist. I had a list. Big T was confused and mind-boggled. What was wrong with him? Hadn’t he ever done a funeral before? Clothing was not adequate. Big T went off with his cousin, to the department store, to outfit. Big T was a snazzy dresser, appropriately conservative, and did a great job. I took care of her daughter and grandchildren.

At the florist, and Dee’s husband was too shaken to do anything and crumbled. Big T handed me his AMEX, and told me to figure it out. I got it done, yellow roses, hand held bouquet of forget-me-nots from the grandchildren. Had to fight with the florist for the forget-me-nots. (I was in BOSTON, wtf? Did they not have appropriate flowers in the whole damn city?)

Meeting at the church, music selections, pallbearers chosen. Checking off the list.

The viewing the day before funeral went well, but it was dicey. It was the first time I met Bit T’s extended family, his parents, his sister’s family, cousins, and his ex-wife was there. All kinds of high-brow going on. I think they expected me, from Mississippi, to be wearing a red lacy negligee and reside in a trailer park. Ha! Disappointed. They were fascinated with my son, Gunner, and I had Gunner spit-polished for the occasion, gray suit, white turtleneck, oxford loafers. Big T’s dad was the state’s superior court chief justice and a 6’4″ mass of a man. He wouldn’t let Gunner go. Hundreds of extended family and biz relationships showed up. Good. Happy for Dee. She deserved the best.

Ceremony at the church was exquisite and the family looked great. It was February and the graveside ceremony was bitter cold. Everyone was freezing, I was wearing a fur coat, haha, the south wins again.

The after funeral party was to be held at an uber wealthy cousin’s home on the ocean in Cohasset…… it was catered! It was out of my control and they were so wealthy, I thought everything would be fine. Nope.

A catered funeral???????? I thought I was going to die. I huffed and puffed to Big T in the car the whole way there. Where were my girlfriends when I needed them? How insulting for Dee, who was a real girlfriend. Okay fine, fit in with the family, right? We arrived to this multi-million dollar mansion with broad sweeping views of the ocean and I dutifully took second tier in the background…… I was helping the passel of kids change into play clothing so they would not ruin their good clothes…. I brought a beautiful baby blue Lauren sweater for Gunner to wear with suit pants and some tennis shoes. The sleeves were a little too long for him and he fussed. I told him to shove up the sleeves. I was getting the kids situated…..

….until Big T came in and tapped me on the shoulder. He said, “I think they might need some help in the kitchen.” I frowned, “Not my kitchen.” There is one universal rule about a woman’s kitchen, don’t intrude unless invited by the mistress of the house. I was the interloper from Mississippi, and this kitchen was as big as my first apartment. Big T nudged me, “You really need to be in the kitchen.” He was insistent and there was a problem……. no food out and over a hundred people at the house. Kids were antsy, low blood sugar, the liquor was already flowing, and we were already out of ice.

I entered the kitchen on tiptoe. Not my place. Did not want to offend. But by then, everyone knew who I was, knew all about me, my son, my business (hmmmm wonder why?). Big T introduced me all around. There were 20 women in the kitchen and they all knew each other. I was intimidated…. but the kitchen was a disaster in the making.

Come to find out, the funeral wasn’t really catered. They just picked up incredibly expensive frozen casseroles from fabulous local Italian restaurant. When we all returned from the funeral to this spectacular home, there was no food ready, only commercial size frozen casseroles in enormous aluminum tins laid out on a center island which was the size of a ship’s hull. One niece was attempting to chip at a meatball casserole with an ice pick, killing the meatballs. In other words, we had no food and it would take at least 2-3 hours to warm it up. Only one 30″oven in this massive kitchen, 22 casseroles and only 2 would fit into the oven at a time, four burners, all electric.. not even a gas burner. We were screwed and the mistress of the house was in full meltdown. I was told “she didn’t cook much”.

Big T shot me a glance, as in, “I told you so”. Deep breath, time to dive in. I hugged the mistress of the kitchen and assured her everything would be okay, “We do this all the time.” I was lying through my teeth. We would have been prepared, but it was okay. I asked Big T to go out to the car and retrieve the approx. 23 quarts of remaining Chicken pot pie and told him to go to the store and “buy them out of Parker House dinner rolls + 12 bags of ice + bourbon”. We divided the Chicken Pot pie to warm it up faster.

Very quickly, the women in the kitchen settled into a natural rhythm. Some took places by the sink to wash and dry, others chopped and polished dishes and silver. Odd dynamic but we laughed while we worked. Girlfriends are gonna girlfriend. While the pot pie was warming, I rummaged through her frig. Enormous selection of cheese, olives, crackers, etc. I sent another person out for deli meat, while another sliced up cheeses. House had a dish pantry with some of the most beautiful porcelain I’ve ever seen…. time to get it out, dust it off and use it. I found linen which still had the tags on it, a wedding gift, and the owner had college age kids (never used it until today).

Hors d’oeuvres were out by the time big T returned. I sent two people next door to borrow their oven, and another two people to borrow the other neighbor’s oven. At first, they looked at me like I lost my mind. They don’t talk to their neighbors, but it was an emergency. It worked. We served the kids and a few adults the chicken pot pie over rolls, and they ate almost all of it (15lbs of chicken went into that pot – they were hungry). I noticed my future sister-in-law standing over her children, shoveling chicken into her mouth, picking food off their plate (mental note).

Eventually, the other casseroles thawed and bubbled up. The aroma of Italian red sauce took over the house and men began to invade the kitchen. It turned into a real family affair with people eating out of pots or straight from the counter cuz they couldn’t wait any longer. Someone turned on the Sinatra and we danced in the sunroom. The sound of pool balls cracked as the men settled into the game room. Big T ran errands all day. He was a blessing in disguise, he would be a terrific husband for some lucky woman (me).

As we were ready to depart, I went to a back bedroom to retrieve my coat. All the other coats were on one side of the bed, piled high, and arranged in a mish-mash. On the other side of the bed, Gunner was sound asleep with three other little girls underneath my fur coat. What a picture they were. The sleeves of his sweater were completely stretched out. He played so hard and kept pushing the sleeves up, now they were at least 6″ beyond his fingertips. The girls who had bows in their hair were bedraggled and drooling. They had a wonderful day. To be a child among a passel of cousins are among the best of days. As I stirred the kids to move my coat, sure enough, Gunner had a hole in his suit pants at the knee. He was such a boy.

And that’s how I met Big T’s family…….. at a funeral for my girlfriend, the best of friends, dearest Dee.

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Dora

One person won’t be speaking there.
https://twitter.com/BenJackd1/status/1187389476546502656

wolfmoon1776

I think I finally want to give Elijah a hug, and – oh, well.

PeteC

Is Epstein dead??? Did I miss his funeral? Bet it was closed casket!!!

wolfmoon1776

When the Epstein-based indictments roll in, WE NEED THIS THREAD. 😉

Coldeadhands

Mai Tais & Mojitos for Epstein’s Caribbean proclivities 🙃

Deplorable Patriot

Oh, how to compete with that….
You can’t.
Frankly, my family is so big, we’ve taken to eating at a restaurant in a private dining room for lunch after the funeral, so no food stories, but we do rip apart the flower arrangements in the cemetery.
A family friend’s funeral the bar tab at the athletic club was $10K and the widow was so appalled at her grandsons’ behavior that afternoon that at her funeral, the estate closed the open bar tab at 6 pm. The kids still kept going, though. The husband’s funeral, though…he was a large man, as in with a circumference waist. When they finally got a casket picked out, the funeral director said, “He won’t fit.” They were able to order the casket in a larger size, but still, he was dead. His daughter was like, “Can’t you just shove him in?”
Otherwise, no real great stories other than a priest putting four heaping scoops of incense on live coals in the incensor at my mother’s uncle’s funeral. Talk about a smoke screen.
I might think of more, but usually the best stuff comes from the remarks and the homily as stories are told.

Deplorable Patriot

I’ve been to some great funerals and some not so great ones. One time, this was just a quick service for a wife of a relative, the priest’s talk was so offensive, I got on the highway to drive home, and all I could think was it’s a good thing Mom and Grandma weren’t there ’cause they would have raked him over the coals. My grandmother was gone by that time, but when I got a hold of my mother, at least one cousin had already called her to tell her how bad it was.
OMG. That’s usually what would happen. Everybody was on their best behavior until afterwards, and then there’d be a cluck session.

Deplorable Patriot

Seriously, this happened. My grandmother’s last remaining brother died. He had been married twice, and the one holding court at the lunch afterward was the first wife, the one who threw him out. The second was gone by then. Anyway, NO ONE in the family other than her own kids and grandkids had any use for this woman. I mean nobody.
So, we go to leave, and I knew what was coming. I get in the car to warm it up, and turned on the radio so I wouldn’t have to listen to it, and Grandma gets in the car and says, “[DP] turn off that radio. I want to talk.” There’s days I wish I had a recording of that conversation, my grandmother was so hot under the collar.

Deplorable Patriot

I don’t know if it was the best of days, I mean I had the flu, but Mom and Grandma just wouldn’t stop.

ozzytrumpster

My sister in laws father died. She and most siblings were from first marriage. Service arranged by youngest half sibling. Service at her church. The priest made no mention of the first family. As in father of x an x grandfather to x,x,x.
They scots. Thought there was gonna war at the funeral.
They got outside church before it all kicked off.
Wow. Sadly the brogue was so thick there were bits I couldn’t understand. Meaning was pretty clear

yamabudo

Dearest Daughn, I just enjoy your family stories beyond words! God bless you 🌸

singingsoul1

I grew up 3Km from the Dutch border and it was very Catholic. When a person died the casket was set up for three days in the living room.
Friends and neighbors came to pay their last respect. They were served coffee and cake and they visited the widow or widower and family and console them.
After three days the casket was moved to the Cathedral and there was the service most of the town was there. After the funeral people gathered in the bar even children and drank , they said, the persons soul away. There was sometimes dance and lots of stories told about the diseased with lots of laughter. No tears.
Children grow up celebrating life and death of a person.

Rodney Short

Glad I got my own tradition.

Deplorable Patriot

My dad’s mom was Irish. They buried five members of the family from the front parlor. Granny always said she hated cut flowers because they reminded her of funerals. Well…when you bury three sisters before you’re 14….

GA/FL

LIVE – Cummings body lies in State in the Capitol Building -In case you want to watch….

GA/FL

Me neither. I won’t watch any Democrat if I can avoid it.

SteveInCO

But he has finally become a good Democrat.

ozzytrumpster

And he’s still going to vote Democrat

SteveInCO

LOL!!!! Won’t we all?

ozzytrumpster

There is anew eco thing where bodies are mulched. Or leave it downtown Baltimore overnight for rats.
I’d put money on the rats being poisoned. Win-win

andyocoregon

He’s already stinking up the place, so they need to get him in the ground ASAP. Of course, he stunk up The House when he was alive, too.

wolfmoon1776

The idea of this massive corruptoid Cummings, who raked in BILLIONS and kept his own people down in utter poverty and violence, being hailed as a “North Star” by Democrats – OMG – these people just indict themselves. I think if we let Democrats *actually* bring back slavery so their commies would have something to protest, they would *actually* do it.

Cuppa Covfefe

“North Star”…pfft…
More like a black hole, which is what he spent years turning Baltimore into.
Or maybe a neutron star, just sits there, doing nothing, spinning (perhaps), and gradually fading off into nothingness as it cools.

wolfmoon1776

I’m going with brown hot-gas giant orbiting right next to Soros-Satan I. 😉

SteveInCO

That could describe a white dwarf as well–and a white dwarf isn’t nearly as energetic or massive.

Cuppa Covfefe

Yep, I purposely avoided that. Maybe a brown dwarf, or a degenerate star…
A useless gas bag in any case… the going of Cummings…

Coldeadhands

Neutron star…or I’m thinking neutron bomb. He destroyed the lives of his constituents but left the buildings standing.

Rodney Short

I wanna see the body and death certificate,dont mean to be a prick but this asshat leaves alot of unanswered QQQQQestions.I swear if he is kicking. Back enjoyin
Margaritas somewhere on an Epstein island ima be pissed.

GA/FL

What ought to be said about Elijah Cummings is this paraphrase of Shakespeare.
“Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears.
I come to bury Cummings, not to praise him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interrèd with their bones.
So let it be with Cummings”
Julius Caesar – Act III scene II
Sources say Cummings died from complications due to a syphilis infection.

Tomaso Guiseppi

The Marc Antony eulogy of JC is one of the most-often quoted snippets of Shakespeare’s works. In the context of the play, Marc Antony’s goal, using sarcasm and rhetorical argument, is to rehabilitate JC and expose Brutus and the co-conspirators as the ambitious murderers they are and, by the end of the play, Brutus and Cassius, the lead conspirators are dead and JC avenged.
Somehow I think the GA/FL is not in the business of rehabbing the legacy of dear Elijah. As to the proximate cause of his demise, whatever it may have been, it is best attributed to the cumulative consequence of a life led in the backrooms and corrupt hallways of a bilious swamp. Dear Elijah was a corrupt, flawed man whose career was leveraged from a lifetime berth on the All Sharpton Express Train of Perpetual Race Mongers and Self-Aggrandizing VIctimized Minorities.
Elijah will be remembered as, at best, a mediocre congressman. His legislative record is marginal. His pious lectures delivered in sonorous tones, often with manufactured indignation, were repeatedly boring. He is another example of seniority being the ONLY reason to re-elect an incumbent.
He death, however, should not bring a end to the on-going investigation of his “beloved” wife. She has engaged in a systematic bilking of the federal government grant system which appears to have been facilitated by the dear deceased’s high-ranking position. I am not fully conversant with the details, but I bet someone here is.
As an Irishman, however, I have often pledged to not speak ill of the dead. Not once have I stated, or even suggested, that dear Elijah was “ill” or that he had an “illness”. Thus, I have not broken my pledge, although I will throw some salt of over my shoulder, knock wood and make the sign of the cross. Can’t be too careful.

ozzytrumpster

It was Marc Antony who made the speech but it was octavious, later Augustus, who dished out the revenge. He had every member of the conspiring families killed brutally. All young women, girls even children were raped To death on the senate steps with the males looking on.
Serious deterrent factor

wolfmoon1776

OMG, I’m dying of laughter, listening to Elvis Presley sing a religious tune, and I’m still on the intro to this piece.

wolfmoon1776

Well, this thread just put me in the right mood to hear that. I laughed uproariously at the very idea of Savannah Guthrie wearing black for Elijah Cummings.
Oh, my. Fake News is outdoing itself. This is too good. Maybe we can have a repeat performance for that new 90-plus-victim serial killer that looks like Cummings!

ladypenquin

Speaking of wearing black… reminds me of the network news’ folks the day after the 2016 election. I believe there were several wearing black. If memory serves me right, Megyn Kelly was wearing black the night of the election. Maybe some changed as the results started coming in. 🙂
Elijah Cummings became what he supposedly fought against during the Civil Rights era – when there really were reasons to push for changes. But then he became like Al Sharpton, Jessie Jackson et al – race hustlers who caused more harm to their people, than good. They got rich, while the schools dumbed down expectations of minority children, so that now they don’t believe in the American Dream, but only the handout.
Cummings aided in returning “his” people to a modern-day plantation. That’s unforgivable.
On another note, I’m going to tell my hubby when my time comes, contact you, Ms. Daughn. I want a proper sendoff. Being Southern himself, he’ll understand. I could use a few Q-Tweeper girlfriends to attend too. 😂

patfrederick

I’ll be there!

ladypenquin

Thanks, Pat! ❤️

patfrederick

it’d be both an honor (and with Daughn in charge) a hoot!

Cuppa Covfefe

Isn’t that rayyyyciissssss or something? One-upping blackface?
Too bad they weren’t wearing tar and feathers… Turkey feathers…

pgroup

Elvis was very religious and God-fearing in his youth. His favorite music was gospel which he sang wonderfully with that voice of his. (I have many recordings of him doing gospel and early blues songs)
Not sure how he got on the pills but I heard it was due to back/spine pain. Once on the pain meds, he was not in charge of his life any more – the drugs were.

wolfmoon1776

One of my teen friends was a truly devoted fan – styled his hair like Presley and wore bits and pieces of clothing, glasses, etc. (which worked, amazingly) and was a fountain of knowledge about him. Good guy. Caught many a ride with him, in my hitchhiking days.
Wife is also a fan of his early stuff, but I liked his later stuff.
Live:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qIBDwVMN6qc
Studio:

comment image

patfrederick

My mother-in-law held many jobs–but her favorite was the last one–a school bus driver. She drove a lot of sports teams too–softball and field hockey. She was still driving (near 80 yrs old) when she passed and she passed in early December several years ago.
The day of her funeral, snow started falling–so much so that school was canceled–so all her favorite students could attend her funeral. The funeral itself was an eye opener—a cousin of hers, whom we knew very briefly as the flamboyant–look-at-me type waited for my hubby and daughter to finish their eulogies and then proceeded to take his laptop to the pulpit. From there he showed a power point presentation highlighting mostly himself, but including a few tidbits about mil. Then he seemed to swell a bit and stated…now here’s what you don’t know about (mil)…he spent a good 5 minutes delivering bawdy, outrageous, jaw dropping stories…until hubby thanked him and hurried him back to his seat.
Ahhhh…but they day was not over yet…the snowstorm was unexpected and the limo/hearse that carried the casket did not have good enough tires to make it up the small hill where mil was to be buried. it slipped and slided and slipped and slided some more, till everyone got out and PUSHED the hearse up the hill to the grave site…

patfrederick

when we cleaned out her house, we found many eye opening items–which i would have loved to have talked to her about–but NOTHING that gave any credence to the trashy stories the cousin was spouting. even my mil’s dearest friend in the world looked at him like he was a nutter…lol

Deplorable Patriot

Cleaning out houses….
That’s where the better stories in my family are. My dad’s mother had a vacuum cleaner she bought in 1946 that was still in the original box, and she had a copy of the ad for it clipped from the newspaper, too. In 1993.
My grandmother’s sister apparently was a closet klepto. When her house was cleaned out, the aunts found all sorts of things that had gone missing over the years that didn’t belong to her. Stuff like necklaces, pocket watches, my great-grandmother’s wedding dress (which is now in a box under my parents’ bed). She had a salt and pepper shaker collection with over 500 pairs. And then, she survived the Depression, so there was money tucked away all over the house. I put my hand in an oven mitt and pulled out $75. There was $300 frozen in the bottom of an ice tray. And that doesn’t count the Stations of the Cross from the parish church that burned, or the 40 pounds of sugar we found under the eaves of the attic. She had an old dresser that was full of pictures. One whole drawer was my mother. I mean the ENTIRE drawer.
And, of course, the Red Rider BB gun just like the one in the movie A Christmas Story that was in the basement, which, of course, was painted battleship gray.
THOSE are the stories we love in my family.

wolfmoon1776

*screaming laughter*

Alison

Oh my gosh, DPat – that vision of pushing the hearse in the snow is hilarious. Probably everyone wearing their best shoes, too!

patfrederick

oh yeah…and all the fancy topcoats and suits—slush covered…

jamcooker

When my mom died, she had requested no funeral. My dad had just retired, and they had a wide circle of friends. My brother convinced my dad to have an open house basically, at an arranged time soon after her death. He pointed out to my dad that otherwise all of their friends would be commiserating with him for months on end and he finally agreed. My brother set out a tasteful display of photos of our mother, and my sister in law and I put out a good selection of sliced meats, cheese, and other things, I don’t remember what all now, it’s been a long time ago. It was odd in a way, because most of the people that came didn’t expect food to be there. Afterwards he was glad that we’d done that, and he felt that Mother would have been okay with what we’d done.
Many years later, when my dad went, we did the same thing for him. We decided to fix some of his favorite foods for the buffet. Chili with beans, cornbread, chicken pot pie, and a very large german chocolate cake. (Well it wasn’t exactly that, but it was chocolate; the nephew’s wife who decorated and made it had put decorations of activities he enjoyed on it, so it was all good.) By that time most all the grandkids were grown, and some had families of their own. Our son came home from Japan, where he was working at the time, and he visited with some of my Dad’s friends who were Japanese in Japanese which they really appreciated. I think the only thing that there was much left of was the cake.
And my oldest nephew, looking at the children playing remarked to his cousins and siblings, saying “That’s us out there”. The cousins and siblings had been about that same age when my mother had gone.

wolfmoon1776

Thanks for this one. A great reminder of what really counts – and the dignity of simplicity.

GA/FL

Just so you know – PDJT did NOT order US Flags to be at half-staff today, but did order them half-staff on the day of his death for 24 hours, 10/17-10/18
http://us.halfstaff.org

wolfmoon1776

OMG – the SCANDAL is coming. I just know it. Then the URBAN LEGEND. Then SNOPES calling it “MOSTLY TRUE”.

wolfmoon1776

LOL! Don’t forget the scarf and sunglasses! 😉 😎
Can’t be too careful in hiding those Bill Clinton inappropriate smiles!

GA/FL

Neither the President nor the First Lady are attending the big ceremony today. Wonder why? ;8-]

ladypenquin

The GREAT thing about POTUS and the First Lady, is that they’re not hypocrites. Cummings did not deserve any respect from the President, but POTUS is gracious enough that he’ll send a high representative.
POTUS will be kind to the people that Cummings supposedly represented, because after all, those are people who really need POTUS.

thinkthinkthink

And Scott Pressler has been the kindest to his district over everyone else.

GA/FL

Amen, Lady Penguin.

gil00

I do love these stories. I dont have funeral stories. Never been to anything like that. I did have some food and things set up at the community center where my Grandma volunteered. The director was the one who helped set it up but apparently didnt communicate with the people who knew and liked her. Most of the people were ride dependent and couldnt be there. The director and her assistant asked me to give them things in my Grandma’s house….after I had volunteered items already. I did say no(they werent close friends of hers and one didnt visit her when she was sick). The directors daughter and her husband had the gall at the pseudo wake to ask me to sell them my Grandma’s house at very well below market, and I quote, “Because (I) would get something anyway.”
Needless to say I didnt sell them the house.
My family doesnt do anything like your Southern wakes. It will be a small affair for each person left right now.
One of these years maybe Ill attend one of these. No funeral anytime soon though….except the one for Pelosi’s speakership!

Please

I just want to know one thing about Elijah’s service…
…will there be envelopes?

Deplorable Patriot

😎😆😂

Cuppa Covfefe

Yep. Full of hush money 🙂

ozzytrumpster

Now that really is the $64,000.00 question. And will there be lots of cameras aimed just right to watch the faces when They open them

Alison

Well I guess no one dies in my family ‘cuz I don’t have a single funeral story (yes, Daughn, I’m hanging my head in shame as a Northerner after hearing once more about the bountiful food fixings in the South 😂😔)
However….
I do have a funny “in lieu of burial“ story.
Hubby and I were taking a long walk several years ago, which included meandering through the cemetery. We had both already decided we wanted cremation, but had never discussed what to do with our ashes.
I was in a loving nostalgic mood, and I said, “If I go first, I want you to take parts of my ashes to all our favorite places and scatter them at each”. Then I began listing those places, “Hawaii, Salzburg, Tuscany, Turks & Caicos, Cayman Islands, … What do you think, Honey?”
He thought about it a minute, and turned to me with a sly grin, “Do I have to go alone?”

patfrederick

i told my hubby if I go first (and we both want cremation as well) –I want him to wear a little bit of my ashes in a vial around his neck and take me everywhere with him…
he laughed and said you don’t want me to remarry, do you? lol

Katie

Curious…has anyone seen or heard from Nadler lately? His last tweet was October 6th.
For someone who ran to the cameras every day, the silence is deafening, unless I’ve just missed it. Are they hiding his absence from the public?

Plain Jane

I told my daughter that for my wake, she is to acquire 2 chickens. Tag one of them #1 and the other #3, and let the two chickens loose on the funeral home when the crowd is there.
For the funeral luncheon at a specific restaurant, I want a dinner dance with either a DJ or a good local band that plays oldies but goodies.

Deplorable Patriot

One of my mother’s Spanish uncles left instructions for no vocal music and no homily at his funeral Mass. 35 minutes. Then, as was his tradition, after we went down the street to the cemetery and left him on the rollers, we went to the bar owned by his daughter-in-law’s cousins for a beer.
Man, that was a day.

Deplorable Patriot

Oh, yeah. After we were done at the bar, my mom’s cousin handed the bartendress a Ulysses S. Grant, if you know what I mean, for her services she didn’t know she was going to be rendering.
Uncle P was a trip, that’s for sure. He definitely walked to the beat of his own drummer. Lived on cigarettes, Coke, peanuts and coffee. And he HATED sermons and music at Mass, but NEVER missed.

Plain Jane

Hee, hee!
Our pastor’s sermons are regularly 4-5 minutes tops. In those 5 minutes he says something that not only applies to the gospel or the readings, but it’s memorable and states how we might apply it in our daily lives. I love the man. He might say something nice about me. LOL.

Tomaso Guiseppi

Tomaso Guiseppi a/k/a “Big T”: MY FUNERAL STORY ABOUT THE SAME FUNERAL AT WHICH MISS D MET MY FAMILY
I am from Boston and, raised in that special subset of religious training called Irish Catholic, I am well-schooled in the 3-4 day melodrama that is our version of “The Wake and Funeral”. The Irish Catholics are heavy on everything except food: guilt, drama, booze, guilt, rosaries, novenas, whispering, cat fights, gulit, drama and booze. In the spectrum of grieving, the Irish Catholics are unique: not so operatic as the Italians and not so severe as the Jews, but in the solar system of wakes and funerals, the three “sects” have much in common. As one comic once said, “Jews and Catholics – same guilt, different holidays.”
When I “took up” with my Southern Jezebel, a/k/a Miss D, I violated all norms and had great fun in so doing. Miss D is the most competent person I have ever met – in any professional, social, work or other environment. She is also quintessentially Southern – in tradition and training. Whenever anything family-related occured: holidays, weddings or deaths: invariably she has been required to save something – dinner, desert or even the entire day.
When we lost our cousin-in-law, Dee, it was a jarring tragedy and deep loss. Along with her husband (my cousin), Dee was the first member of my family to meet Miss D and they became immediate fast friends. Dee was in many ways just as competent as my Miss D and the two of them could drink, smoke, “dish” and cook for days at a time. At the time, I was recently divorced but had found a small rental house that had a huge back porch that overlooked Boston Harbor and that spring and summer were memorable times that included lots of events and Dee and Miss D became close friends.
We were in Mississippi when we received the call about Dee’s sudden passing. We were on a plane within 3 hours and with my utterly devastated cousin that night. The rest of my stuffed-shirt family were doing their best faux-sympathy-thing as they had “no use” for Dee before that: she had been married before and had kids. Tutt-tutt. Actually, one of the reasons that Miss D found Dee to be so cool was that her first husband was “an Italian Lord” and famous in Europe as a star of the Milano soccer team. She had it all goin’ on!
It was immediately clear that her husband hadn’t the capacity in his grief and it was also obvious Miss D was the only one both willing and capable of driving this truck through the next 4 days and around the looming train wrecks.
So she did.
Like any story told from one perspective, her recounting of the next few days is accurate but also minimizes her immense calming presence and her relentless ability to carry off all of it as if she merely snapped her fingers. That night, after flying in and doing all sorts of organizing, we drank a lot of wine and made 28 quarts of chicken pot pie filling which proceeded to feed hoards, our loaves and fishes, for the next two days. It was the primary meal at the gathering after the viewing the next day and then, as she recounted, saved the funeral after-party from becoming a debacle of hungry Irish relatives thrown together with no food and too much booze. All the while, Miss D presided, directed, served, cleaned and socialized – not a hair out of place, a fingernail cracked or a food spill on any article of fashion. I am sure she resented being co-opted as the professional caterer but she was also very happy to give Dee the proper tribute she deserved.
In retrospect I think my immediate family was completely taken by surprise that Miss D was not some
version of Blanche Dubois – only less presentable. It was quite funny as she was literally in total command of the entire event and gave them no choice but to be gracious and tolerant – two traits that they historically lacked.
There were several vignettes in the course of the days that add to the texture. My cousin has always had rough edges and was socially awkward – inherently bright but badly dyslexic and neglected by the public school system. Several of his friends showed up at the wake and within a few minutes i happened uipon hem in the back room passing around a flask of whiskey. . I told them to take it outside which they did but eventually I had to ask them to leave as they became obnoxious. It wouldn’t be an Irish wake . . .
At the graveside there was a most strange occurance. It was bitter cold, clear day in February. Dee was buried atop a bare frozen hill covered with a dusting of snow at a cemetery near Boston Harbor. In the midst of the graveside service, a sudden squall: gusts of wind and snow sprung up directly over the gravesite. It lasted all of 5 minutes – about the same time as at the service. It was as if Dee was letting everyone know she was totally pissed off that she had to leave so soon. Totally spooky.
Last, at the after party once it was clear that there was a looming food disaster, Miss D and I went out to our car to retrieve the stock pot with about 23 quarts of chicken pot pie that was sitting in our trunk. You see it was too big for our fridge and it was so cold that week that we just left it in the car from the night before. We hadn’t planned on “catering” the after-party but apparently Dee had other ideas. As we were were lugging the stock pot into the house, my sister arrived and commented: “Only you two could be expected to have a full pot of chicken ready . . in the trunk . .just in case the party has no food . .” She was right, of course. Miss D still doesn’t like her and with good reason.
Family is family. La Famiglia.

cthulhu

Beautiful memories from you both.
And two amusing takes on the American Spirit — Mississippi and Boston Style.
As Heinlein put it: “A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.”

Alison

Awwww great stuff, Big T. You and Daughn are real gems here in Wolfie’s Den and out in the world where you both touch so many hearts. It’s called Living, and you two do it well 💞💞💞💞

Deplorable Patriot

Hey, I’m wondering…Boston Irish. Are we related? 😎 My dad’s Irish people were from there, although the Canadian “suburbs.”

Tomaso Guiseppi

All Irish are related. My surname has been the object of much public discussion this past week with PDJT making a pointed comment about the “impeachment” being the latest high tech example. What are the Canadian suburbs of Boston? I do know my Irish blood came to Boston via Newfoundland which may explain my past weakness for Canadian women – another story.

Deplorable Patriot

Everett and Revere. And I share ancestors coming through St. John with the same surname. Galway.

Tomaso Guiseppi

I was imprecise. My surname is not my ancestral name as I acquired my surname by way of Catholic Charities adoption services. My maternal ancestral name that came from Newfie is Callanan.
Everett and Revere are pure hard-core blue-collar Italian North Shore suburbs of Boston. They have never been “Canadian” suburbs. I spent most of my high school athletic career in the Catholic Prep School leagues in contest against Italian kids from Malden Catholic and St Mary’s of Lynn etc. Never had a Canadian-type lineup against me.
I have, however, been to all the ancestral places in Galway from whence my surname originated, most particularly the town of Spiddle at the top of Galway Bay.

Deplorable Patriot

Now that I think about it, it was the Dubliners who came through St. John on my grandmother’s side. My grandfather’s Irish mother was born in Harbor Grace. It was her mother who shared your name. And there were other typical Galway names in that family tree, one meaning “dark.”

Tomaso Guiseppi

Just saw this part II of your reply. Where is Harbor Grace? My departed mother was a Lucy from County Cork in the small country town of Kanturk. Her mother Irish ancestral name was McManus.

ladypenquin

Big T, I love your addition to the story of Dee’s funeral. I’ve already let Miss. D know that I need her for mine. Hubby be kind of lost anyway. 🙂
“Miss D was the only one both willing and capable of driving this truck through the next 4 days and around the looming train wrecks.”
You have an artist’s brush with words like Dear Miss D. Thank you for sharing her with us. 😇

Nor'easter

Re: Elijah Cummings
REST IMPEACH.

Deplorable Patriot

Good questions.

Tomaso Guiseppi

I am sure they cremated him but would love to know who claimed the body.Of course media has no interest. Bury that body to keep all the other ones buried.