A funny thing happened at the graveside
A couple of weeks ago, something really funny almost happened to the Urbane Lion. I say almost, because it didn’t happen. And if it had happened, I probably I would have been the only chuckling. But still …
We were at his uncle’s internment, and the Lion was walking around amongst family members passing out scrolls of the eulogy. It was all very solemn, as is befitting a burial. But, the Lion wasn’t paying attention to where he was going, and just missed stepping into the grave.
Surely, I am not the only one who can see the potential humour here? Okay, yes, very black humour. But humourous all the same.
Fortunately for the Lion, he did not fall in, but this put me in mind of my paternal grandfather’s internment, many moons ago.
My family is very private, and stiff upper lip British practical, about death. So the gathering at the graveside was very small. My parents, my siblings, my little family, my uncle and his adult children.
The family burial site is gorgeous. It is located in the Hockley Valley, and the plot is on the side of a hill, overlooking the valley. Not that the occupants of the cemetary benefit from the view, but it is a nice place for those still amongst the living.
We experienced two rather humourous challenges this day.
1. Getting the urn into the plot
The hole in the ground was barely larger in circumference than the urn. And probably at least three feet deep.
My uncle and my dad looked at each other, both thinking the same thing. How do you actually get the urn into the hole?
You can’t drop it in! That seemed a tad disrespectful. And what if that caused the urn to break, and Grampapa’s ashes to explode into the air? That would pretty much defeat trying to bury him!
My father, being the younger brother, ended up sprawled on the ground with his arm down the hole.
“I still have to drop him a bit,” explained my dad.
“Okay,” was my ever so helpful uncle’s reply.
And down went Grampapa.
2. Losing the widow down the hill
While all of this was going on, my grandmother was standing on the downhill side of the grave. Perhaps not the best placement for an old lady with a cane. But what made it all the more challenging was the fact that she was holding onto the hand of my daughter, D1, who was probably about three years old at time.
This would have been okay, except that D1 was getting very bored. So, to entertain herself she was kicking at Great Grandmama’s cane.
I was too entertained by my dad’s predicament to notice, but my husband could see what was going on. However, he was on the other side of the grave and couldn’t reach my daugher. So, he was frantically making cease and desist faces at D1, who was studiously ignoring him.
Fortunately, my daughter was not successful in kicking away the cane. So, it was not a case of down went Grandmama.
But seriously, how Monty Python would that have been? Grieving old widow tumbling backwards down the hill!
All in all, it was the best internment I have ever attended.
Even in our most serious moments, there are opportunities for seeing the humour in the situation. Do you have any tales of this nature to share?
I remember that! Good thing Grandmama also had a sense of humour and could see the funny in the (non-real) image of her rolling down the hill!
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I guess I share your black humour. At my grandmother’s funeral the hearse wouldn’t start and we had to boost it with jumper cables to my parents car.
My sister and I and all our cousins were laughing because she ALWAYS had trouble getting her car to start when she was alive. We figured it was fitting that the hearse wouldn’t start.
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That’s funny, UP! When the Lion nearly fell in, did you get a fit of the giggles? It was probably just as well he didn’t, or he might have hurt himself, and then he wouldn’t have cooked your gourmet dinner.
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I’m notorious for breaking into fits of uncontrollable laughter at tense, solemn events like funerals. I think it’s just my body’s way of getting rid of all of my nervous energy and anxiety.
When it comes down to it, though, I think we all need a good laugh at a graveside. Loss is so hard to deal with; might as well make the best of a situation that’s out of your control.
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Good thing I didn’t fall in. Probably would have caused a few heart attacks in the crowd and the hole wasn’t big enough to discreetly stuff everyone inside.
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I don’t think I’ve been to a funeral yest where I didn’t end up laughing hysterically over something with a group of people. The worst was at my Dad’s funeral. We were in the lead car after the service on our way to the cemetary, my mum up front and all the kids packed in the back. My sister said something stupid and we all 5 just cracked up and couldn’t stop laughing. Even my mother started giggling. Though I’m sure the funeral driver guy has seen it all, we could tell it was getting really difficult for him to maintain his funereal composure.
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Canadian Army Wife - I think it’s wonderful when something funny happens to remind you of your loved one. Or when someone says something that causes everyone to laugh at an inside joke. My other grandmother was offered sugar for her tea at one family dinner. Her response was “I don’t do sugar”. This set her teenage and young adult grandchildren making jokes about doing lines of sugar. My grandmother was laughing so hard she had tears, but she was also bewildered because she wasn’t quite sure what the joke was. Now our response to sugar with you tea is always “I don’t do sugar”.
Robin - actually, bad girlfriend that I am, I didn’t realize that he had almost fallen in. When he got back to me he said “I almost did something really stupid”, then he told me about it. I do have to admit, I started to chuckle then. And you are right, it’s important to protect my food provider at all costs!
Rebecca - I agree. That’s why my family skips the visitation and the church service and goes straight to the good ol’ Irish wake. Food, drink, stories and laughter.
Lion - he wasn’t in the hole yet. It’s not like you would have put your foot through him or anything
XUP - most of my experiences of funerals have been for my previous partner’s family. They were all such a negative lot, that funerals were an occasion to validate how much life sucked. There was no laughing. Not a single crack of smile. Then they generally sat around afterwards and gossiped about the dead person. I much prefer the laughing type of funerals.
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Oh gees, those are funny funeral tales!! Maybe we should all crack up a bit at those things. Wouldn’t you want people having a good time at yours, laughing, remembering the silly and fun stuff you did? I know I would!
One tale–when my brother first learned to drive, he insisted on driving in a funeral procession. We all hung on dearly as he proceded to plow into the car ahead of us each time it stopped suddenly (as funeral processions do). I think he hit the dude 5 or 6 times before we got to the cemetery. When the guy got out to confront my brother, it was the PRIEST who was going to do the service!!! WE could have died right on the spot!! He was forgiving, thank goodness, as there was no damage–but he was not a happy camper.
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