Sad Update

Sorry for the week of non-posts. I came in to work last Tuesday and got a phone call early in the a.m. from my mom... my grandpa passed away. Remember back in Sept. when my grandma died? Well her husband just didn't want to live without her and passed away 2 months and 12 days later. It was really sad. I guess my dad and all of his siblings were called to the hospital and then they took him off the ventilator and they were all in the room as he took his last breaths. It was hard with the holiday thrown in there, but the viewing was Wednesday and the funeral was Friday.

I have to tell you that the funeral was pretty interesting... You see my grandpa was a real "old" style southern Baptist man. He would drive out into the boonies to go to church every Sunday evening by himself. He loved going and he went every week until he was too sick to drive himself anymore.

I didn't know too much about his church except for what my dad had told me, which was that he was forced to go as a child and was terrified of it. Now, I tell you this story not to pass judgment on anyone's religious beliefs or practices, but just to share my experience and what my family experienced on Friday. This is simply a narrative of the funeral told me from a non "old regular Baptist" point of view....

At any rate, after spending time at the hospital on Tuesday and then with his siblings, he came over to my house to take a nap and visit Maddy. He starts telling me that it is my grandpa's church's custom to have a 3 day and 3 night around the clock prayer/preaching vigil with the body... typically in the home. He said that the family vetoed that idea. None of them were up for that, plus with Thanksgiving in the mix it just really wasn't what the family wanted to do. Their compromise was to have grandpa's preacher and church "folk" do the service at the funeral home on Friday. And wow did they ever do the service.

We sat in the funeral home listening to them for more than 2 hours. It started with this really loud chanting/singing of these hymns that were really intense and to me, a bit harsh and scary about death and the soul. Anyhow, they were really really loud.

Now, I must add a disclaimer here and tell you that this is really hard to put into words... the intensity of these people and the reactions of the various family members...

Three preachers talked for about a half hour each, and there was another half hour of nothing but this loud chanting/singing.

I should preface this with the fact that the funeral home was packed with people. No one else in my family is this old-school Baptist. Many of us are Baptists, but we belong to more modern congregations and have never been exposed to this type of service.

So, when these preachers "talked" it wasn't really talking. It was more like this weird singing type of preaching, and they would get really into it and get louder and louder and they would be gasping for air between words. It was so bizarre to me. Every couple of minutes they would walk around and hug all the brothers and my aunt, and then shake hands with all the spouses. I think my dad was hugged by these men like 30 times throughout the service. Then, when they would pray, they would all literally get down on the ground and like lay down. This is fine, but when you're not expecting it and all of a sudden this group of men just starts laying on the ground, people all just look around and kind of freak out a little bit.

Now, I think the 2 hour service would have been tolerable had they spent the time reminiscing and sharing stories about my grandpa. But I think the only thing they said about him was "He was a quiet man who loved the church." The rest of that two hours was spent telling everyone that if they were not born again they were going to hell and they would never see my grandpa again. I heard about the fires of hell and damnation and how you need to have the love of Jesus in your heart and you need to be "borned again" or you would not be saved.

This is fine to an extent, because the majority of my family believes this as well - you need to accept Jesus into your life and believe in Him to go to Heaven. However, we did not need to hear it a hundred times in the course of an hour. And we did not need to be threatened like that in a time of grief. It was just so bizarre and so long...

At one point, I seriously think half of the people there were out in the lobby or outside.

By the time they wrapped it up, everyone was aggrevated and annoyed and really freaked out. Nice way to say goodbye to a "quiet man."

They told them they could not do this at the cemetary, that they had to keep it short. So, we get to the cemetary and it's snowing and it's freezing cold and they sing and pray again. They did keep it short, but they did lay down in the snow to pray. I'll give them some credit, the song they sang there was nice, and I will remember it always, "Gone away with a Friend." I know that's what my grandpa did. He's with Jesus and my grandma now, and he's not sick or suffering anymore. I'm just really sad for my Dad. To lose both parents within a couple months of each other.

At any rate... it's strange to say goodbye to an entire set of grandparents and almost end a chapter in my life. It will be the weirdest at Christmas. My grandma's birthday was Christmas Eve.

So, here's to all the wonderful memories of my grandma, Evedith, and my grandpa, Pierce. They were married for 63 years. They had 9 nine children together. 24 grandchildren and 29 great-grandchildren. I think their deaths being so close together is just a testament to how much they relied on each other and loved each other. God bless them and keep them. I will remember them always.