Nov. 5th, 2009 09:43 pm
The first of the gang to die
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muckefuckWe just got back from twenty hours in St Louis. (I hope ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bunj and e. are snug in their beds by now.) We're all pretty worn out after burying my mother's youngest brother. She's one of the oldest children in a big Catholic family, so Butch was only eleven years older than me and only six years older than the oldest of my generation. (One of the stories circulating after the service today was of him coming to kindergarten and bragging about being an uncle.)
It was quite sudden: A massive stroke in shower Friday morning. By the next day, the neurosurgeon was giving him a 40% chance of survival. Sunday morning while on the way to the Day of the Dead exhibit in Pilsen I got the news that he fell into the other 60%. It may sound a bit morbid to continue with the expedition at that point, but actually I found viewing the ofrendas very comforting. I arrived home to find that he'd passed away a little after three o'clock that afternoon. As my mother said, she's been expecting for a while she'd have to make a call like that, but least of all for him.
I had thought that being there for the wake and the burial would force me to confront the reality that he's gone. I'm still not sure that I have, but I feel a bit closer than I was before; I think when it will really hit me is when I go down for the family Christmas party and he's not there. It hasn't sunk in for my mother either; she's a nurse, so all through his three days in the hospital, she kept her mindset firmly clinical and I'm not sure she's let up yet.
Right now I'm more worried about his brothers; frankly, they looked terrible--though this didn't prevent one of them for delivering a stirring eulogy. It was a good service all around--particularly the homily, which can make or break something like this. I was gratified by the amount of humour people were able to mix in. My grandfather's dour and austere services had me expecting the worst, but then my grandfather was something of a dour and austere man, and I think people were afraid to behave any differently. Moreover his wife's people are solid Irish, not German Lutherans with an Irish-Catholic veneer like ours.
Fortunately, Butch fell farther from the tree when it came to some things. Unlike his brothers (both blood and in-law), some of whom I'm only warming to now after years of semi-avoidance, he was always a fun uncle. I thinkbunj nailed it when he said that Butch lived his life on his own terms. He didn't do things simply because they were expected of him or what everyone else had done. For instance, he married so late that his nieces and nephews had children of their own before he did.
My heart goes out to those boys. They'll have a lot of aid and support growing up, but all the aunts, uncles, great-aunts and great-uncles, cousins, family friends, and what-have-you still don't add up to one dad.
[I've toyed with the idea of disabling comments not because I'd rather not talk about any of this but because I don't want any of you to feel obligated to reply with your condolences. I don't want to dissuade anyone from posting what they'd like to say either, but perhaps those sentiments would be better communicated via e-mail.]
bunj and e. are snug in their beds by now.) We're all pretty worn out after burying my mother's youngest brother. She's one of the oldest children in a big Catholic family, so Butch was only eleven years older than me and only six years older than the oldest of my generation. (One of the stories circulating after the service today was of him coming to kindergarten and bragging about being an uncle.)It was quite sudden: A massive stroke in shower Friday morning. By the next day, the neurosurgeon was giving him a 40% chance of survival. Sunday morning while on the way to the Day of the Dead exhibit in Pilsen I got the news that he fell into the other 60%. It may sound a bit morbid to continue with the expedition at that point, but actually I found viewing the ofrendas very comforting. I arrived home to find that he'd passed away a little after three o'clock that afternoon. As my mother said, she's been expecting for a while she'd have to make a call like that, but least of all for him.
I had thought that being there for the wake and the burial would force me to confront the reality that he's gone. I'm still not sure that I have, but I feel a bit closer than I was before; I think when it will really hit me is when I go down for the family Christmas party and he's not there. It hasn't sunk in for my mother either; she's a nurse, so all through his three days in the hospital, she kept her mindset firmly clinical and I'm not sure she's let up yet.
Right now I'm more worried about his brothers; frankly, they looked terrible--though this didn't prevent one of them for delivering a stirring eulogy. It was a good service all around--particularly the homily, which can make or break something like this. I was gratified by the amount of humour people were able to mix in. My grandfather's dour and austere services had me expecting the worst, but then my grandfather was something of a dour and austere man, and I think people were afraid to behave any differently. Moreover his wife's people are solid Irish, not German Lutherans with an Irish-Catholic veneer like ours.
Fortunately, Butch fell farther from the tree when it came to some things. Unlike his brothers (both blood and in-law), some of whom I'm only warming to now after years of semi-avoidance, he was always a fun uncle. I think
bunj nailed it when he said that Butch lived his life on his own terms. He didn't do things simply because they were expected of him or what everyone else had done. For instance, he married so late that his nieces and nephews had children of their own before he did.My heart goes out to those boys. They'll have a lot of aid and support growing up, but all the aunts, uncles, great-aunts and great-uncles, cousins, family friends, and what-have-you still don't add up to one dad.
[I've toyed with the idea of disabling comments not because I'd rather not talk about any of this but because I don't want any of you to feel obligated to reply with your condolences. I don't want to dissuade anyone from posting what they'd like to say either, but perhaps those sentiments would be better communicated via e-mail.]
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