Traditions

Oh, tomorrow, I'm so looking forward to you and a temperature above 30 degrees. And then we're actually getting above freezing. In reality it hasn't been too long since we were above freezing. But the temps have been so frigid that it makes it feel like forever! I usually like cooler temps for sleeping – but when I crawled into bed last night, I pulled the covers all the way up and kept them there all night. There's “cool” and then there's “you've got to be kidding!”

I'm at that unfortunate point in my life that I find myself going to the funeral home more and more often. That's one of the real negatives of getting older. I was there this morning for the second time in less than two weeks. I'm old enough that I can remember when instead of everyone going to the funeral home for visitation following someone's passing, the casket was taken to the home and everyone went there for visitation. Some would always stay, because it was traditional to sit up with the departed all night.

We had neighbors who lived just up the hill from us who were surrogate grandparents for me growing up. In my early years the wife's mother lived with them. I wasn't very old when she passed away, but I have some distinct memories of it - and some not as distinct . To be honest, some of the memories are fuzzy due to my age at the time – I don't remember if Dad and I went up to the house for the neighborhood visitation or not. But what I do remember is that Mom stayed at the house with them. I remember sitting on the front porch, looking at their house and wishing my Mommy was home.

Mom and Dad never really believed in babysitters. That meant either we all went, or we all stayed home. I have very early memories of going to funerals. When I was three or four, I had a pastel blue nylon dress. It must have been my best dress, because I remember it being worn to several funerals. I never particularly liked being there, but there really wasn't an alternative.

By the time my grandfathers passed away when I was 13, visitation was being held at the funeral home. I'm sure that helped people actually get some rest during the time before the funeral services. But even then there wasn't the designated visitation time there is now. The family and neighbors would be at the funeral home every evening until the funeral. Often the close neighbors would be there almost as much as the families, as a show of love and support.

To be honest, I like how funeral visitation has evolved. I think it's nice to have a designated time for friends to come to the funeral home and pay their respects to the family. It's so much easier on the family than the time of being at the funeral home every evening. I remember how tired it made me that summer I was 13. People don't often have that much loss in such a short time – but two funerals just three months apart really started wearing on us.

Like many other traditions, the way funerals are done is regional to geographic areas. I was in my mid 20's when I first attended a funeral in another area of the country. I was surprised to learn how different the routine was there. But after spending the first 20 years of my adulthood living around the country, I learned to ask questions and go with whatever was that particular norm.

I was 17 or 18 when one of my grandmother's older sisters passed away. That was my first full Catholic Funeral mass. Mom had to work, so only Dad and I attended. I ended up sitting next to my cousin, who is just nine months older. So many of the Catholic nuances were strange to us. Then, for the first time, the priest came down from the altar and sprinkled the casket with incense and holy water. That's a very sacred part of the ceremony and occurs multiple times during the Funeral Mass. And with the first shake over the casket, my cousin and I both started sneezing at the incense. I think we may have held our giggles until the second time the priest came down, but the giggles did come. Dad wasn't very pleased with me. But it's one of my favorite memories of my cousin and I being together!