The Funeral

The funeral was last Wednesday. The second one in the last month or so, the first being Sweeties brother who ended his life at the beginning of July. Last Wednesday’s was for Sweetie’s mom, who finally got caught by the cancer that had been chasing her for the past few years. The service took place at Holly Cross Church against the dying wishes of her mom, who had been a life long member of the Church of Saint Patrick and had always asked that her service should be held there. Due to some bad planning on her death, however, St. Patrick’s was closed until November due to it’s 100th anniversary renovations and since we all thought it bad form to wait that long for a ceremony, the service was moved. The pastor of Saint Patrick, Father Seamus, presided and Sweetie alongside her oldest sister gave the eulogy. I was asked earlier if I’d like to do something for the service and decided that I would play a song that she liked. It took us a little while to come up with one, but the minute Sweetie suggested “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head” I thought it would be perfect. The only sticking point as far as I could see was that my mother in law was going to have a full mass and Sweetie and I weren’t sure how we could fit it in. Bob, who was in charge of the rest of the music found a good spot for it after the communion and the song went off without a hitch.

There was the reception afterwards, with sandwiches and punch, and from there the family moved to the graveside and after a brief but moving ceremony where Father Seamus sang the Irish Blessing in a beautiful high tenor, we left for Sweetie sisters house where we spent the rest of the afternoon and on into the early evening having more to eat and drinking beer. It wasn’t until we got home that I remembered the suitcase party. We had planned on going to Disneyland that week, and so I had already made up my mind that I wouldn’t be going, but here I was home in time to catch some of it and since Sweetie didn’t seem to mind, I grabbed my case and left to go catch the last of it.

The party was held at a hotel downtown and all but a few of the 125 of the suitcases were there. I saw my friends from Beautiful Angle and Corlis with his new girlfriend as well. I didn’t stay long, but long enough to talk to a few artists I hadn’t met and after an hour or so, I headed back home.

I wasn’t in a big hurry though so I took the 402 down by the waterfront on the way home and watched the people turned gold by the late evening sun.

In a little over a week, the older boy will be heading back to school and a few weeks after that Ike will also. Where do these days go? These days of hot weather and ice cream trucks, of backyard afternoon sprinkler dances and picnic dinners outside in the yard.

In the late summer light, I take the waterfront as far as it will take me—through the Asarco tunnel up the hill to Ruston and on to Pearl before turning north and heading home. When I finally get there the boys are getting ready for bed and Sweetie doesn’t look like she’s gonna stay awake much longer either. We pack them up and put them to bed and find ourselves asleep before the last of the evenings light fades away.