A post in which I go to BB's funeral

I slept pretty well last night. I was up for an hour about 4am, which is nothing unusual. I didn't have to be up early so it was OK. When I got up for good, I milled around the house, wasting time and putting off getting ready for the funeral. I had intended to be over there early and ride with Eve and Dad, but I ended up running late and rushing around the house trying to get ready in time - exactly what I hate. It was added stress on Eve and Dad too, which made me feel like a shit. I realized I had been putting off getting ready because I was dreading it so much. I was really worried about a possible scene, having to referee, etc. But of course procrastinating just made things more stressful, and I was pissed off at my self to boot.

I managed to make it to the funeral on time after a herculean effort and rush, although I had to meet Eve and Dad there. I still beat Lisa, who was actually late. There weren't many people. So many of BB's friends and contemporaries in Easley had either already died or couldn't be there. The relatives from Delaware didn't come down. But Lee Axley, our old next door neighbor was there. Her husband died last winter and Eve went over to see her then. She knew BB also, from past family gatherings. When we were all together in the old house at Christmas, it became tradition for the Axleys to come carolling and be invited in for dessert. Those were happy, glowing times, and beautiful holidays. We always did Christmas right. It was good to see Lee again. She was an outspoken liberal and a smart woman, and I like her. She was good to me, and a voice of sanity in an atmosphere where I sometimes lost sight of the fact (when I lived at home) that not everyone felt about gay people the way Eve and Dad did. As if that wasn't enough, she was a thorn in Dad's side periodically about me. Her son died in a car accident, and she had a perspective on his problems with me that Dad didn't. She also walked the walk as a liberal. She was a teacher, and taught in a school in a poor neighborhood where she was really needed; and did so at considerable inconvenience and aggravation to herself.

Jane was there too. She was Eve's brother's ex-wife. I always thought that man was uncommonly lucky when it came to women. He usually had a much better woman in his life than he really deserved. Jane was always a class act. She still is. I had heard that she has had bad health problems, and didn't know how she would look, but she looked great. Suitably attired in a little black ensemble with sensible heels and designer sunglasses, she reeked of taste and understated sophistication. Her nails, as usual, were perfectly polished in an attractive, not garish, yet not bland color. I have never seen her with a chip in her nail polish. In short, she looked like the Jane I remember - a thinner, Southern version of Sophia Loren. Only when she stood up did I notice a difference. She is a bit stooped, and needed a bit of help to walk through the grass to the car. I was delighted to assist and have her to myself for a bit. Jane made a huge impression on me as a young man. She was by far the most sophisticated person I knew as a teenager, and I still judge classy women with her as a template. The slightest attention from her thrilled me.

Which I told her. I'm at an age now where I think it's important to tell people the good things you think about them. It does them no good if you keep good opinions to yourself. Jane is a bit cool and aloof, a bit feline. Her demeanor I think probably tends to hold people at arms length. Her face in repose generally falls into a studied ennui that would blend easily with the most privilaged globe-trotters. But I know from knowing people like my friend Lee in Charlotte that sometimes people who are unconsciously aloof most need affection and admiration, because fewer people may take the trouble to scale the walls.

I also know that Jane was very good to BB - her ex mother-in-law - and visited her frequently. She's also a dog lover. You can't be truly a cold fish and love animals. She was always kind and gracious to me, and I've never forgotten that either. She seemed a bit surprised when I leaned in to kiss her cheek, but not uncomfortable. So there's much more to her heart than the cool exterior might lead you to believe.

The service was nice, but rather impersonal. Father Robert was very kind to do the service for Eve and Dad - he's pretty much retired, and it was a bit of a strain on him to be there - but he had only met BB a couple of times. I would have liked to share some personal anecdotes, but it wasn't that kind of service. I did that when we got back to the house for the funeral luncheon.

Cindy and Paul didn't show up, despite my feeling that they would, and despite my laying the groundwork for Dick and Eve to at least be cordial if they did, and despite all my worry that I would wind up as the referee of an embarrassing scene anyway; they just plain didn't come. I guess it wouldn't have made any difference to BB at this point. But it might have done something to help heal the rift in the family if they had at least bothered to show up for the funeral, and if Dad had behaved himself. So after all that worry, an anticlimax.

Since I had been running late this morning, I hadn't gotten my macaroni salad touched up. I ran by the house, finished up the salad, changed clothes, and headed for the luncheon. I got there pretty quickly, and in time not to inconvenience the guests.

I ate lunch with Jane and Lisa at the children's table. After all these years, Jane still fascinates me. She and Eve have never been close, and I wanted her to feel welcome. Also, Jim and Dad were talking about gun stuff at the table, I'm sure, and I hear enough of that anyway. We talked about BB, and we talked about our opinions on food, which differ greatly. I sometimes wish that I could be less passionate about food, could view it as simply a means of sustenance; but then I would miss that pleasure and passion too. It would make it easier to watch my weight though. Jane asked for my blog address - twice. I gave it to her the second time, since I figured if she asked about it again it wasn't just her being polite. Later on I thought about that again. Jane, if you're reading this blog, I hope you're not too shocked. I'm fairly frank about things that many are not.

We also talked about Cindy, which I wouldn't have been able to at the big table without provoking a scene or tears. Jane says that as you grow older, the things you regret weigh on you more heavily. She says Cindy will regret how she treated BB when she's old enough to have her perception shift. (Interestingly, Lee Axley told me almost the exact thing when I walked her out.) I don't know if that will hold true for Cindy or not. Maybe you can rationalize your way out of regret. When last we talked about it, Cindy told me that BB now was not the woman who had been her grandmother before. She told me the person she was of late was not the same person with whom she had been close. For her sake, I hope that belief will hold. BB has gone on to her reward, and isn't hurting over earthly things any longer, which is a blessing. I wouldn't like to think that Cindy will live her future in regret and pain. I guess she'll answer for those things later, as we all will. Unsurprisingly, I'm musing on mortality and the afterlife lately.

After the luncheon, the guests left, and I stayed to visit with Lisa, Cole, Ava, Dad, and Eve for a bit. I didn't want to leave Lisa there with them alone, and it seemed mean to desert after lunch.

I feel sorry for Eve. She's truly at loose ends now. One of the good things about her making up with BB is that she had a friend, someone to talk to again. Now she just has Dad again. Eve has never really had close women friends though. I wonder if she's lonely, or if she realizes what she's missing? It just makes me sad for her.

There's so much sorrow in our family, and so much of it could be cured by just bending a little bit. I am truly grateful that I'm willing to bend to secure some happiness. If all that is standing between me and happiness is pride, then please Lord let me never be too proud. I thought about that, and about being raised to forgive and compromise, on my way to Spartanburg tonight. I called my mother to thank her for those life lessons - because God bless him, I didn't get a lot of that teaching from Dad. I didn't get her, but I was thinking a lot about that on the ride up.

When I got to M's house, he was supportive and wonderful. J, his roommate has hurt her leg, and I expressed sympathy for that. That means she's going to be around their house a lot more - the injury is a fairly nasty torn ligament. M listened with marked patience to family drama, but shortly after my arrival he whisked me off in the car. He told me he wanted to take care of me for a while. I didn't ask where we were going. After the last week, I just didn't want to have to make a decision.

He took me to see Up - the new Pixar movie he knew I had been wanting to see. It was a surprisingly poignant picture. I had been wondering how they would make the old man character sympathetic. They did it by tracing his life with his beloved wife, from their meeting to her death. Needless to say, this hit home for me. We both teared up a couple of times.

After the movie, we ran an errand and then went for a late dinner at Denny's. It was really sweet of him to be so concerned, and to take me out to get my mind off things. I'm so lucky to have M in my life. I went off to sleep next to him feeling cherished and cared for.