Sounds terrible to say you had a great time at the funeral, but I did. Everything about it (well, almost) went well. My grandfather’s minister near Sioux Falls, who worked for him in earlier days, gave the sermon. A terrific speaker with an engaging manner. His grave neighbors my brother’s, and has a view of his parents’ homestead (where he was born), the town pool (where he would take me), and buildings built by his son-in-law and brother-in-law. Lunch was so-so, but got to eat across from a cousin who is a great friend and fellow geek. Also met another cousin who spent some time in Turkey and gave us a summary. In short: “I consider myself a feminist, and for all the shit I’ve said against the United States in recent years, I am never saying anything bad about this country again.” Then off to his old home, which now belongs to yet another cousin and is accurately described as “Custer Game Lodge East.” Spent most of the time playing with three other cousins, and finally hid from out-of-state cousins with still more cousins.
The best part of the service was a line specifically directed against a relative who pained my grandfather. The best health news with that a sickly uncle (who long feuded with my grandfather, but was very much of the same time) has recovered after moving off his farm (as my grandfather did a few years back). The best conversation:
Person 1: If he was here, grandfather would love this.
Person 2: Yeah, but he’d wonder why we’re having his funeral.
Person 3: We’d tell him it was organized by his enemies. He would think it was typical of them.
I expect to right a more somber account of his last day, but the funeral was a very good thing. That and the friendship and strength I have received from friends and family, both those I know physically and electronically, have helped tremendously.