funeral

Tossin’ in the Coffin

tombstoneWhen I was a kid, I was fortunate enough to get to go to the funeral of my Uncle Ben. I had very little interest in and had wasted no affection on him, but did appreciate getting the honor of being a “member of the family” at the funeral.

I was knowledgeable now about the ways of the world and looked forward to the ride to the graveside service. At the time, it was the custom for the mourners to follow the hearse holding the guest of honor in a very, very slow procession from the church to the gravesite. As we proceeded, oncoming traffic pulled over as a gesture of respect to the deceased. I tried to put on a tragic face as I proudly looked out the windows at all those unfortunate enough not to be in mourning.

Green carpeting draped the mounds of dirt surrounding the grave. A few chairs were reserved for chief mourners. As we all gathered respectfully around the coffin, Brother Bond read a few bible verses, and spoke glowingly of the deceased. It was clear, he didn’t know Uncle Ben like we did, but nobody corrected him. At the close of the brief service, my six uncles serving as pall-bearers prepared the coffin for its descent into the grave, never suspecting the gravediggers had overestimated the size of the grave needed and draped carpeting over their miscalculation. As they somberly approached the coffin, three of the six pall-bearers stepped on the carpet-draped hole and tumbled into the grave along with the open coffin. Uncle Ben joined them as they rolled around in the red clay at the bottom of the grave, but only the pall-bearers clambered out. I was fascinated to learn that bodies are buried with their suits split up the back. All in all it was great afternoon. I’ve always thought more warmly of Uncle Ben since then.

Laughter and Life

parents wedding pic             Bill and Kathleen Holdaway Swain on their wedding day, June 29, 1946

Why I Would Rather Try To Find The Funny Than The Meaning Of Life

http://yadadarcyyada.com/2015/01/10/having-the-last-laugh/

http://lindaghill.com/2015/01/01/just-jot-it-january-pingback-post-and-rules/

I have continued to think of Pegoleg’s post  and Yadadarcyyaday posts yesterday. Laughter has saved me in some of the most stressful situations of my life.  It is cathartic.  On the way to my father’s funeral, my mother was sitting between me and my husband.  Of course, it was a somber time.  I was anxious to be of support to her, mindful of her grief and all the problems loss of a Continue reading →

“Don’t She Look Natural!”

This is an excerpt from Kathleen’s Memoirs of the 1930’s, my book in  progress.  Kathleen grew up in rural East Texas in the 1930’s  during the height of The Great Depression.

The events surrounding Aunt Ellie’s death were a thrilling event for me since we hadn’t invested too much affection in each other.  The wake was unforgettable with all its glorious food:  fried chicken, peach cobbler, deviled eggs, bread ‘n butter pickles, dainties not seen outside “dinner on the grounds.”   Sprinkled with carbolic acid, Aunt Ellie lay in a pine box Continue reading →

The Funeral and the Big Hat Feud

Grandma Perkins always said she loved a good fight. Well, she must have died happy, because she and her daughter-in-law had a whing-dinger going when she had a stroke and keeled over. Ruby Nell was a sweet woman and didn’t usually get into it with Grandma, but hadn’t been able to avoid her that day. Her sons, Dave and Harry, and their Continue reading →

Grieving for Sally

Sadly, one of the best and brightest of the senior class died. Sally was a lovely girl, studious, popular, well-liked by students and teachers, active in the community and church. She was swept away by a sudden illness just before graduating. Her funeral was attended by the entire community. Six of her friends were selected as pall-bearers. Eddie Continue reading →

Ruth Elaine and the Exploding Baby (Part I of II 1930s Memoir)

I was praying for salvation as the class suffered along with Luther Simpson through a page of Jane and Fluff the Kitten.  The second-graders pretended to work on their sums across the aisle. in our shared classroom in 1935 in East Texas. Little Ruth Elaine Lawson, a girl I’d had always found dull, dropped her head to her desk and snuffled Continue reading →

Ruth Elaine and the Exploding Baby (Part II of II 1930s memoir)

Repost of earlier post few readers saw:

Out of respect for the family, Mr. Kinnebrew dismissed school at noon. Ruth Elaine, normally socially invisible, wandered from the office with her lunch bucket, mystified to find herself Queen of the Playground. The big girls jostled for position around her, shoving lowly first graders to the side, demanding details of the catastrophe. “Did it set him on Continue reading →

Raising the Dead

Poor Uncle Joe was dying.  No doubt about it.  He’d been in bed for days, getting weaker and weaker.  Family “sat” with him around the clock.  Cousin Frank who’d been sitting for hours, finally just had to slip out to the bathroom.  Uncle Joe opened his eyes for the first time in days.  He smelled apple pie.  He was hungry!!  He just had to have some pie.

“Sally.  Sally”  No answer.  That pie was calling him.  With his last strength, he slid out of bed, so weak he melted to the floor.  Creeping on hands and knees, he finally made it down the long hall to the kitchen.  As he pulled up to the table and reached for the pie, Aunt Sally turned and smacked his hand, “Leave that alone, you old goat!  That’s for the funeral!”

“Don’t She Look Natural?”

The events surrounding Aunt Ellie’s death were a real treat for me since the two of us hadn’t invested  much affection in each other.  The wake was unforgettable with all its glorious food:  fried chicken, peach cobbler, deviled eggs, bread ‘n butter pickles, dainties not seen outside “dinner on the grounds.”   Sprinkled with carbolic acid, Aunt Ellie lay in a Continue reading →