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The passing...
30 August 2003 23:36Drove home Thrusday night, after picking up my student ID and textbook at UWL. I became quite excited about it. Looking fwd to starting school. Why the hell not, and why am I continueing to debate.. .there's nothing to debate.
Was woken up Friday a.m. by Bailey, the wondermut. My brothers dog, who attacked me as I was trying to get some much beuty rest. The bastard.
I had gone a week ago Friday to the hospital and saw Rosemary. I made my peace then, and was tickeled pink that in the afternoon, she remembered that I had been there to see her...and I knew that would be the last time I would see her.
The lady, whose body laid in the cherry wood casket, in BLoomington, WI, was not my aunt. It wasn't the same bubbly, slightly overweight, aunt, I grew up with. The aunt I sent cards to, the one who sent $ at Christmas, for my birthday, the same aunt who I went to La Crosse with for her apt and consultation on her kidney ca. That wasn't her. She had a dramatic weight loss, which left her distorted. Her hands and arms were thin...and for what it was worth, her makeup wasn't her, she appeared waxy.
As I entered the furneral home and went up to the casket, dad greated me, and had tears in his eyes. I gave him a hug. I went up to the casket, and really wanted to be alone, alone with rosemary, like I was that friday afternoon in the hospital room--her and me... alone. But that didn't happen. Mary jo, came up, for comfort, and although it was warrented, it wasn't what I wanted at that time. I brushed her aside, and ran through "the line" giving my condolonces to my uncles and thier wives (who I can't stand) and out of the corner of my eye, sat Jhonny at the far end of the room, in black trousers, and a blue/black/white J-crew shirt.
I degress: My dad is the youngest of 7 brothers and sisters. Rosemary was the oldest, Herb, Am, Jo, John (deceased), and Bernadette. His brothers, with the exception of john) breed like rabits, farmed, and always had something against dad. He, rosemary, and Bernadette became the "three muskateers", and were known to hang out together, and were very close to each other. It was the two other muskateers that took care of rosemary till the end, took her to her apts, and started to get her estate in order. And what I didn't realise till after the fact, while they spent hours and hours at the hospital, they would write back and forth notes to each other, they would discuss "funeral arrangements", estate issues, ect ect. It was 9 weeks of planning and preparing for what they knew was the inevitable. While Rosemary was still at home, they would "search" her vast collection of papers and filled house for insurance papers, account information (she had 5 checking accounts alone), as well as "removing" certian objects (a mink head fur jacket with matching muff, Jewlery, ect ect). And I will never know how they truely felt about burring one of there "friends". Rosemary and Bernadette lived close to each other, they could throw purses to each other outside thier windows...and both knew that the cancer was taking it's toll fast then what they had planned. Plan A was to get Rosemary better, and sit her down and have everything in order, have her sit down with the undertaker and have everything "set up", the problem was that time..time just ran out. It just ran out.......she never got well enough to have anything real in order. Case in point, they are still finding "pieces" of a large puzzle she left behind.
Rosemary never had kids, and her husband died in 1996. My father married, and had the 3 children. His other brothers and sister breed like rabbits. Bernadette has tom, john, kelly, kathy, mike, bob, alone, his brothers had too many kids to count as well.
Johnny for the point being-is a homo. And I could go on and on about everything I know about him, but for conversation sake, he and I have been somewhat distant, and I am not sure exactly why. He's a character in his own right. According to my mother, John would call Rosemary weekly, during his commute in Chicago, held up in traffic, down time. I didn't know that. When Lena died, John broke down at the casket. Rosemary and Bernadette had to help him up... he just colapsed. Didn't handle it well.
And I degress...
He smiled, and I smiled. I went over and sat by him. He had't made the effort or tried to go up to the casket yet. Kathy would never go. We sat and caught up.. he talked about his new BF who dumped him and how it was a hard week. He talked about going to the country bar in tight wranglers and a ripped short sleave shirt, and how he wasn't going to give up on dale, and he asked how I was doing, and I said that I was basically done with men, and that I was taking a break. He hadn't known that Jingle and I broke up. He also empasised that I was pretty plowed at Lauries wedding. We sat and talked, and at the end of the night, he hinted he wanted to walk back to the house with him. We talked, we talked about one night stands, on being "good boys' on his relationship with dale, on life in General. I felt as if he was slowly opening up a door that had long been closed shut.
Talked to Melody, a cousin, who is a RN in Psyche. Had a heart to hear with her. She made the comment she was trying to get FMLA and take care of rosemary at home. I made the comment that I had gone to see her, and told her "it was time, to go with the lord." She called me an angel for doing that, because she wanted to so much, she wanted to come down and tell Rosemary, that it was time... time to go. She cried. She gave me accediation that what I did was right. We talked about the mso4 usage..and about letting go. Unbeknownst to me, it was her mother, who helped Dad and Bern. assist with taking care of her at home....
We made it back to his folks house, and the house was CRAWLING with munchkins.. yappy kids running around. It was over simulation for him. He sat in a corner on a chair in shorts and I T-shirt. I proceded to do fierce up-do's with the kids BRAT Dolls... and he smilled. we just kind of whatched as time passed on by. It was as if we didn't need to get caught up in the family mess, and ordeal.
We left. I drove home with Dad to get the scoop. Laurie and Patrick were there. stayed up yakin' in which case dad Let us in on Rosemary's will. He had discovered it while "lookin" for some information, and told Bernadette to look at with him, so they knew what they were getting into. **side note: there was talk/hostility between the brothers, as to where Rosemary's $$ was going to end up. Rosemary was L O A D E D. Point blank, L O A D E D. And I am sure once they start to go through the house, they will discover "stashes" of cash-cold hard american cash.*** It turned out that 99.9 percent of the estate is going to St. Mary's school and the church. Might as well, keeps the wolves at bay.
I sat in the den, and laurie and Ryan Saunter in. We had a real heart to heart coversation. Discussion about our lives, about Rosemary, $, mom and dad, without any of the wives/husbands around. It was the first time, we all had sat down and really talked, just the 3 of us. It was very precious.
With a full house, I ended up on the couch. I didn't sleep well, and was awoken too early in the a.m, just as I was falling asleep. Breakfast was coffee cake, caffine. Turns were taken for the shower, and the black morning garb applied. Packed my car, and drove with my mother to Bloomington, and then to the furneral home.
There wasn't that many there. Parkin's kids were not there. As luck would have it, I was a palbearer.......
....Not that I have a problem with being a palbearer, however:
1. John died: Palbearer
2. Grandpa Mergen Died: Palbearer
3. Grandma Mergen died: Palbearer
4. Grandma Thiede Died: Palbeaer
5. Grandpa thiede died: Palbearer
6. Rosemary Died: Palbearer
Although it is an honor, I am tired of carring my loved ones to the grave. Of lifting them out of the herse, of having that honor, that burdon.
Slowly the crowd supsided, and we slowly left the furneral home. Bernadette went up the casket, and cried. I went up, and stood there, Silently. I touched her hair. I touched it like I did when she was at the hospital. I touched her hair, like she was still there, knowing she had moved on.
The service was beutiful. Uneventful. Johnny with a voice like the angels sang. It was hard to think of anything in church. I really hadn't cried. I really didn't feel like anything. It was just, I was, well I was just there.
From the service, we went to the cemetary. On the drive there, one of the other palbearers asked about the cakset. Wanted to know if they locked, and The undertaker Nathen, told them tha they did. I of course had known this, being that I bared witness to them closing the casket of Dorthy's (Grandma's thiede). Then I asked how she was placed, where her head was. When we burried Grandpa, there was QUITE the debate that we have him burried wrong. IN fact, we debated it for quite the time, afterwards. Rosemary has a crucifix on her cakset. The crusifix was near the alter. Nathen stated that the head is away from the alter, so if the person would wake up and sit up, they would be facing the alter. Then, when in the cemetary, the person's head is near the TOP of the headstone, so if they sat up, they would be facing EAST since the sun Rises in the east and sets in the west. I found this interesting, as if one was ever lost, and the came ot a cemetary, they could find thier direction.
The cemetary sits on the edge of the small WI town. The green awning was set up with chairs, the dirt was covered in astro-terf. The digger was parked down the hill... not hidden, but from the sight. The hearse door opened, and we carried her out, and placed her on the grave. The priest did a blessing, as I stood at the foot of her grave. Bernadette blessed the casket three times.
It was a sunny day. Bright, with scattered clouds in the sky. And I am always reminded of the poem "I am the clouds, I am the wind. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there, I did not die." I looked at the sky, often during the service. Looked down, and couldn't help but know that Rosemary, was looking down at every one of us. I kept on looking. After the crowd supsided, I walked up the casket, on the side, under the awning. I stood there. Thinking. Thinking of her, of her at my brothers, at Grandmas house, how she asked how I was doing, how she was apart of our lives, on how she was in La Crosse, how she kissed me at the hosptial, on how she was, how Rosemary was. I stood there. Thinking. Thinking of the poem, thinking. My legs wouldn't move. My legs wouldn't move.
I felt someone near me. someone put thier arm around me, and just stand there. I don't know who it was. I briefly turned....
It was John.
I felt compassion. I felt that he understood. I felt something....and as this happened, a breeze came. A soft breeze came and blew on our faces, it blue part of the awning. I stared at the cherry wood casket. There were three drops of holy water still there, sparking. The bees buzzed by, unknowning, and I couldn't help but hting what was in that box. what was in that box.
I left. Patted John on the back. and Headed to the car. Dad was waiting near the van for me. And we pulled out.... and back to the church........after dinner, I ate and came back to ROchester, smokin' like a banchee all the way...
John didn't say anything. He didnt' need to. The same way, laurie didn't need to say anything at Dorhty's or Bernards grave.
and there is a passing.......
Was woken up Friday a.m. by Bailey, the wondermut. My brothers dog, who attacked me as I was trying to get some much beuty rest. The bastard.
I had gone a week ago Friday to the hospital and saw Rosemary. I made my peace then, and was tickeled pink that in the afternoon, she remembered that I had been there to see her...and I knew that would be the last time I would see her.
The lady, whose body laid in the cherry wood casket, in BLoomington, WI, was not my aunt. It wasn't the same bubbly, slightly overweight, aunt, I grew up with. The aunt I sent cards to, the one who sent $ at Christmas, for my birthday, the same aunt who I went to La Crosse with for her apt and consultation on her kidney ca. That wasn't her. She had a dramatic weight loss, which left her distorted. Her hands and arms were thin...and for what it was worth, her makeup wasn't her, she appeared waxy.
As I entered the furneral home and went up to the casket, dad greated me, and had tears in his eyes. I gave him a hug. I went up to the casket, and really wanted to be alone, alone with rosemary, like I was that friday afternoon in the hospital room--her and me... alone. But that didn't happen. Mary jo, came up, for comfort, and although it was warrented, it wasn't what I wanted at that time. I brushed her aside, and ran through "the line" giving my condolonces to my uncles and thier wives (who I can't stand) and out of the corner of my eye, sat Jhonny at the far end of the room, in black trousers, and a blue/black/white J-crew shirt.
I degress: My dad is the youngest of 7 brothers and sisters. Rosemary was the oldest, Herb, Am, Jo, John (deceased), and Bernadette. His brothers, with the exception of john) breed like rabits, farmed, and always had something against dad. He, rosemary, and Bernadette became the "three muskateers", and were known to hang out together, and were very close to each other. It was the two other muskateers that took care of rosemary till the end, took her to her apts, and started to get her estate in order. And what I didn't realise till after the fact, while they spent hours and hours at the hospital, they would write back and forth notes to each other, they would discuss "funeral arrangements", estate issues, ect ect. It was 9 weeks of planning and preparing for what they knew was the inevitable. While Rosemary was still at home, they would "search" her vast collection of papers and filled house for insurance papers, account information (she had 5 checking accounts alone), as well as "removing" certian objects (a mink head fur jacket with matching muff, Jewlery, ect ect). And I will never know how they truely felt about burring one of there "friends". Rosemary and Bernadette lived close to each other, they could throw purses to each other outside thier windows...and both knew that the cancer was taking it's toll fast then what they had planned. Plan A was to get Rosemary better, and sit her down and have everything in order, have her sit down with the undertaker and have everything "set up", the problem was that time..time just ran out. It just ran out.......she never got well enough to have anything real in order. Case in point, they are still finding "pieces" of a large puzzle she left behind.
Rosemary never had kids, and her husband died in 1996. My father married, and had the 3 children. His other brothers and sister breed like rabbits. Bernadette has tom, john, kelly, kathy, mike, bob, alone, his brothers had too many kids to count as well.
Johnny for the point being-is a homo. And I could go on and on about everything I know about him, but for conversation sake, he and I have been somewhat distant, and I am not sure exactly why. He's a character in his own right. According to my mother, John would call Rosemary weekly, during his commute in Chicago, held up in traffic, down time. I didn't know that. When Lena died, John broke down at the casket. Rosemary and Bernadette had to help him up... he just colapsed. Didn't handle it well.
And I degress...
He smiled, and I smiled. I went over and sat by him. He had't made the effort or tried to go up to the casket yet. Kathy would never go. We sat and caught up.. he talked about his new BF who dumped him and how it was a hard week. He talked about going to the country bar in tight wranglers and a ripped short sleave shirt, and how he wasn't going to give up on dale, and he asked how I was doing, and I said that I was basically done with men, and that I was taking a break. He hadn't known that Jingle and I broke up. He also empasised that I was pretty plowed at Lauries wedding. We sat and talked, and at the end of the night, he hinted he wanted to walk back to the house with him. We talked, we talked about one night stands, on being "good boys' on his relationship with dale, on life in General. I felt as if he was slowly opening up a door that had long been closed shut.
Talked to Melody, a cousin, who is a RN in Psyche. Had a heart to hear with her. She made the comment she was trying to get FMLA and take care of rosemary at home. I made the comment that I had gone to see her, and told her "it was time, to go with the lord." She called me an angel for doing that, because she wanted to so much, she wanted to come down and tell Rosemary, that it was time... time to go. She cried. She gave me accediation that what I did was right. We talked about the mso4 usage..and about letting go. Unbeknownst to me, it was her mother, who helped Dad and Bern. assist with taking care of her at home....
We made it back to his folks house, and the house was CRAWLING with munchkins.. yappy kids running around. It was over simulation for him. He sat in a corner on a chair in shorts and I T-shirt. I proceded to do fierce up-do's with the kids BRAT Dolls... and he smilled. we just kind of whatched as time passed on by. It was as if we didn't need to get caught up in the family mess, and ordeal.
We left. I drove home with Dad to get the scoop. Laurie and Patrick were there. stayed up yakin' in which case dad Let us in on Rosemary's will. He had discovered it while "lookin" for some information, and told Bernadette to look at with him, so they knew what they were getting into. **side note: there was talk/hostility between the brothers, as to where Rosemary's $$ was going to end up. Rosemary was L O A D E D. Point blank, L O A D E D. And I am sure once they start to go through the house, they will discover "stashes" of cash-cold hard american cash.*** It turned out that 99.9 percent of the estate is going to St. Mary's school and the church. Might as well, keeps the wolves at bay.
I sat in the den, and laurie and Ryan Saunter in. We had a real heart to heart coversation. Discussion about our lives, about Rosemary, $, mom and dad, without any of the wives/husbands around. It was the first time, we all had sat down and really talked, just the 3 of us. It was very precious.
With a full house, I ended up on the couch. I didn't sleep well, and was awoken too early in the a.m, just as I was falling asleep. Breakfast was coffee cake, caffine. Turns were taken for the shower, and the black morning garb applied. Packed my car, and drove with my mother to Bloomington, and then to the furneral home.
There wasn't that many there. Parkin's kids were not there. As luck would have it, I was a palbearer.......
....Not that I have a problem with being a palbearer, however:
1. John died: Palbearer
2. Grandpa Mergen Died: Palbearer
3. Grandma Mergen died: Palbearer
4. Grandma Thiede Died: Palbeaer
5. Grandpa thiede died: Palbearer
6. Rosemary Died: Palbearer
Although it is an honor, I am tired of carring my loved ones to the grave. Of lifting them out of the herse, of having that honor, that burdon.
Slowly the crowd supsided, and we slowly left the furneral home. Bernadette went up the casket, and cried. I went up, and stood there, Silently. I touched her hair. I touched it like I did when she was at the hospital. I touched her hair, like she was still there, knowing she had moved on.
The service was beutiful. Uneventful. Johnny with a voice like the angels sang. It was hard to think of anything in church. I really hadn't cried. I really didn't feel like anything. It was just, I was, well I was just there.
From the service, we went to the cemetary. On the drive there, one of the other palbearers asked about the cakset. Wanted to know if they locked, and The undertaker Nathen, told them tha they did. I of course had known this, being that I bared witness to them closing the casket of Dorthy's (Grandma's thiede). Then I asked how she was placed, where her head was. When we burried Grandpa, there was QUITE the debate that we have him burried wrong. IN fact, we debated it for quite the time, afterwards. Rosemary has a crucifix on her cakset. The crusifix was near the alter. Nathen stated that the head is away from the alter, so if the person would wake up and sit up, they would be facing the alter. Then, when in the cemetary, the person's head is near the TOP of the headstone, so if they sat up, they would be facing EAST since the sun Rises in the east and sets in the west. I found this interesting, as if one was ever lost, and the came ot a cemetary, they could find thier direction.
The cemetary sits on the edge of the small WI town. The green awning was set up with chairs, the dirt was covered in astro-terf. The digger was parked down the hill... not hidden, but from the sight. The hearse door opened, and we carried her out, and placed her on the grave. The priest did a blessing, as I stood at the foot of her grave. Bernadette blessed the casket three times.
It was a sunny day. Bright, with scattered clouds in the sky. And I am always reminded of the poem "I am the clouds, I am the wind. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there, I did not die." I looked at the sky, often during the service. Looked down, and couldn't help but know that Rosemary, was looking down at every one of us. I kept on looking. After the crowd supsided, I walked up the casket, on the side, under the awning. I stood there. Thinking. Thinking of her, of her at my brothers, at Grandmas house, how she asked how I was doing, how she was apart of our lives, on how she was in La Crosse, how she kissed me at the hosptial, on how she was, how Rosemary was. I stood there. Thinking. Thinking of the poem, thinking. My legs wouldn't move. My legs wouldn't move.
I felt someone near me. someone put thier arm around me, and just stand there. I don't know who it was. I briefly turned....
It was John.
I felt compassion. I felt that he understood. I felt something....and as this happened, a breeze came. A soft breeze came and blew on our faces, it blue part of the awning. I stared at the cherry wood casket. There were three drops of holy water still there, sparking. The bees buzzed by, unknowning, and I couldn't help but hting what was in that box. what was in that box.
I left. Patted John on the back. and Headed to the car. Dad was waiting near the van for me. And we pulled out.... and back to the church........after dinner, I ate and came back to ROchester, smokin' like a banchee all the way...
John didn't say anything. He didnt' need to. The same way, laurie didn't need to say anything at Dorhty's or Bernards grave.
and there is a passing.......
