First, let me say that we are not trying to capitalize on The Arcade Fire's smash record, Funeral.

So, as some of you have gathered by our recent myspace picture, our grandfather passed away last week.  We had the funeral today down in Hollywood. 

For starters, save your apologies and well wishes.  Our family didn't like our grandfather.  He was a jerk, a bigot, an abusive husband/father, and an all around sour puss. However, I knew that the day would affect my father and uncle, as he was still their father. 

We started out early at Panciera Memorial Home on Presidential Circle.  Panciera has been there our entire lives, but never (fortunately) played a role in our life before today. 

The family decided on a closed casket service, despite my grandfather looking very good for his age.  I think we just weren't willing to deal with seeing his dead body lying there.  Regardless, a few people wanted to pay their respects and see the body.  So, the funeral home opened it up for a few minutes.  I did not know this.  So, I caught a glimpse and it kinda creeped me out.  However, everyone who said they didn't want to see him kept going in to say goodbye.  I decided to try.  As soon as I went in the room and saw his shape, I got sick to my stomach.  It wasn't emotional, but purely physical.  It was extremely bizarre.

After 2 hours of "the wake" a priest specially trained for hospice/funeral scenarios came to give a eulogy.  This was weird because he never met my grandfather.  So, he was giving this basic, general sermon about death and my grandfather's role in our lives, but it didn't really fit.  He did a good job, but it was kinda weird.  

One highlight was when he asked the crowd to share their feelings on my grandfather's best traits.  "He loved to dance."  "Golfing."  "Cruises."  Said the crowd. 

And then, one older fellow from the back of the room yelled "He loved lunch!"  After hearing this, I was hoping we could still have that carved in his cemetary stone "Xavier Atria: He Loved Lunch."

After the priest spoke, My mother, Father, Travis, and Myself all gave speeches.  Mom was a great opener, very general theme and put a positive spin on the family's role.  My father went second and was more emotional and focused on the small yet positive side of their lives together.  Travis followed with the most serious one.  He very truthfully could not turn a blind eye to the real grandpa we all knew.  He made sure we didn't forget the negative side of Grandpa, but did it in an amazing way, emphasizing how his sons chose to raise their children differently.  It was really an impressive speech.  Finally, the headliner, your's truly.  I kept thinking of funny, inappropriate things to say all week long, but finally got a good idea the night before.  I basically gave a Rocky IV speech.  No matter how many times our grandpa got knocked down, he got right back up and fought.

Then, we all went via police escort from the funeral home, past the apartments my grandfather built, on to the cemetary.  There was a tent and chairs, and a 6 foot deep hole dug and ready to go.  A funeral director abruptly came up to me and asked me to be a pallbearer.  I declined.  They took the casket and placed it on the lowering mechanism and we finished the service.  At our family's request, they didn't lower him then and there.  We just deal with things differently than traditional families it seems.

Overall, it was a heavy day.  I don't know if anyone knew what to expect from the service.  On one hand, here was a man that no one really liked.  On the other, here was a man that had been around for all of our entire lives and now he is gone. 

I think because of this relationship we all had with him, it presented plenty of opportunities of lightheartedness as well.  We continually joked as the priest talked about God judging Grandpa up in heaven based on his good deeds and so forth.

Either way, a brush with death only makes you think of your own mortality as well as those around you. 

 

Currently listening : A Ghost Is Born By Wilco Release date: By 22 June, 2004