Welcome to Remembrance

If you read my post two weeks ago, you would know that my grandfather died on Halloween. Yesterday was the funeral. It was beautiful. The weather was gorgeous and we did not have any problems for the internment. The flowers were in full bloom for fall and there wasn’t a bunny rabbit in sight. Dad even added a cigar butt for grandfather. He said he wasn’t going to waste a full one on him. 

The service was more about remembering my grandfather’s life rather than the fact that he had died. He had done so many things and touched so many lives. I loved the story about how my dad and grandfather had wanted to go to the World’s Fair in New York and my grandfather said no they were going to travel around the world for a year. My dad and uncle were not thrilled and insisted they would rather go to the World’s Fair. 

My grandfather was a very blunt and straight forward man, but he also had a great sense of humor. He was a teacher and a minister. He was a mentor and friend. I wish I had asked him for more stories about what he had done throughout his life. I know he was never impressed with the city of Paris. He met the Dalai Lama and worked with the United Nations. He always burnt the coffee and drank it black. He knew how to get things done and never shied away from hard work. 

My family all came to Lancaster for the funeral. It was the first time I had seen a lot of them since my oldest cousin had gotten married. I stood in the reception line between two of my cousins (one girl and one a boy). A number of people seemed to think that my male cousin was either my brother (plausible) or my husband (ummm what?). First of all he looks a lot older than me. Second we look enough a like that it should be obvious we’re related, but it was okay. I had a good laugh about it.

I think my favorite part of the day was hearing about how my other male cousin was introducing himself. He was “Daniel son of Alan son of Alfred of the strong men of Catasauqua and protectors of mayonnaise.” I don’t know why we’re the protectors of mayonnaise, but it seems to fit in with the food we had. 

I am glad that I got to hear about my grandfather and see all of the people who came to the funeral. My father was very insistent that we greet everyone. I am glad he was. I got to ring the church bell with my baby cousin and pretend I was seven years old again. All of us grandchildren visited the old house and saw that the university that had brought it had turned it into an office for the language department. We even recreated a picture we had taken after a party that had taken place before my sister had even been born. There were a lot of memories and stories shared. 

When I got home and looked on my fridge and saw the wedding “Save the Date” card a friend from college had sent me. It reminded me that even though my grandfather had died, life was still going to continue on.  Grandfather was likely watching over me (in his own way) and just waiting for the next randomly hilarious thing to happen. However he will likely start watching my back after he gets through Saint Peter’s books. He never could resist making sure the books were clean.