Laughter at a Funeral: Granny's Farewell Part 1

My granny was awesome. Plain and simple. I miss her every day. She wasn't the stereotypical, short hair, pants set, etc. She had beautiful, silver hair that went way past the middle of her back, and she almost always wore it in a ponytail. Jewelry was minimal; usually just a pair of hoop earrings, a brown leather watch, and two of her favorite rings. Her clothes were always comfortable, usually consisting of a flannel button down and jeans, her favorite broomstick skirt and blouse, or a flowy summer dress and sandals. I have a small vial of the perfume she always wore (Poison). She was always on the go, and never seemed to let any physical ailment get her down. Colds tended to have her running around the house with kleenex sticking out of her nose. Stomach bugs may as well just not exist, because she had entirely too much to do for that nonsense! But then...
There was cancer.
Mom tried down-playing it when she broke the news to me. First that it was cervical cancer. Then that it was cervical AND uterine. And when I asked why the doctors didn't just do a complete hysterectomy (no uterus or cervix, no cancer, right?), she finally came out with it. The cancer had been there for so long, it had spread from her cervix, to pretty much her entire lower internal organs. Bladder, reproductive organs, colon, kidneys....It was everywhere. Granny had a few surgeries to remove parts of it. She went through a few rounds of chemo and radiaton. She fought for a while, but when the treatments started to make her feel worse than the cancer itself, she said no more. She was ready to go Home. She said she was ready to go Home to her daughter Vicki, to her parents and siblings....She was ready. I cried more tears watching her go through everything, being sick and tired, hurting, weak....All things that just weren't my Granny.
Then one night, almost immediately after walking in my door after a brief visit with her, I got the phone call that she'd just passed. Mandi and I got back in the car and headed back to Granny's. I found my aunt Jo, my cousin Maria, my uncle Johnny, and my pawpaw Tommy all there, somber. My granny was gone, but she looked so peaceful. There comes a comfort when someone you love passes, in knowing that they're in God's hands. It sucks, you miss them, and no one likes the idea of living without a loved one. But to know that someone you love so much is headed to so much better a place takes a little of the sting out of everything.
Granny wasn't about all the fuss and trouble that came with things. She'd supposedly given instructions for her viewing and final arrangements, down to what she wanted to wear, what songs to be played, etc. She asked to wear the white cotton dress that my parents had bought her on a vacation trip to New Mexico for the viewing, and for her ashes to be spread over the countryside in North Carolina once she'd been cremated. I honestly believe Granny would've been happy with a big birthday cake and everybody just hanging out at someone's house, as opposed to the big church funeral we gave her.
As you've surely read by now, funerals aren't something I do well, or appropriately. Especially if I have Mandi in tow. I learned during this trying time that a lot of my family suffers from the same issue--our act-right runs out once we walk into the funeral home/church. Mandi and I drove to Lonoke to the funeral home for the visitation. We pulled up the same time as my cousin Maria and her hubby Kenneth did. Together, we walked in, prepared to do this thing. They hung back a bit, as I slowly walked to the front of the room to the casket. I took a deep breath, and looked down.
WHAT. THE. HELL.
There lay my granny. My comfy, casual, no muss/no fuss granny. In what can best be described as an old lady's two-piece church dress suit, which was this odd shade of periwinkle. She had heels on her feet, jewelry all over her, and her hair was done up in a traditional pentecostal beehive. As a knee-jerk reaction, my hands went to my hips, and my foot stomped out to the side. Mandi, Maria, and Kenneth quickly walked up to my side. Mandi looked down, leaned over, and said, "Dude. That's not Granny.". Right about then, Granny's stepson Chris walked up. He stood beside me, shaking his head and patting my back. He sighed. "I know, I know. Hard to believe she's gone, huh?"
I wasn't sad as much as I was angry at this point.
"WHAT THE &%$# IS THIS UGLY ASS $#!+ THEY'VE GOT MY GRANNY WEARING?!?! SHE DIDN'T WEAR ANY OF THIS STUFF!!!!! AND WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WITH HER HAIR?!?!?" I managed all this in a cheerleader whisper, no matter how badly I wanted to yell.
Chris stood there silently for a moment. He looked EXTREMELY uncomfortable. He took a deep breath, patted me on the back again, and responded slowly.
"Well....that's what she was wearing the day she married my dad...."
Oh I'm an ass.
I'm pretty sure not only did I stick my foot in my mouth, but I swallowed all the way up to my thigh.
I figured I'd best go sit down before I said something else untoward.


Stay tuned for the funeral service shennanigans....

Granny'd be so proud lol.