Joe's Funeral

My first memory early in the Funeral also caused me the most embarrassment. I have no explanation or excuse or any idea of what possessed me to do what I did. People were seated and the family was led to the front to take our seats. On the way, we passed some of the extended family who was waiting to be seated behind us. When I saw my paternal Grandfather and his sister, who had both been widowed and were standing together, I stopped and insisted they should sit up front with us. I wouldn't take no for an answer and they were forced to go with me to avoid a scene. Then I was forced to realize my mistake when my Brother S and his wife and daughter found themselves without two seats. The Directors had to scramble to make room. I will never know what made me do such a thing. Apparently Mom wasn't aware of my part in it. Later she commented to me that she didn't even know where her parents sat. I was too embarrassed to tell her it had been my fault.

Purhaps that's partly why I don't remember much of the service. The Minister was a personal friend of my Fathers. There had been no repeat of the problem when W's Mother committed suicide. W and TK both sat with me during the funeral. But, when it was time to take the Limo to the cemetary, W left me again. He took Grandma Chief and TK with him. I rode with my parents and Brother S and his family to the cemetary.

I have a very clear picture of the service at the cemetary. It seemed like everyone followed us out there. It was an enormous crowd. Remembering that newspaper article, the crowd and long line of cars made me feel better. Afterward, I have one of those pictures that is still just as sharp in my mind as it was in 1978. Dad stayed to greet and thank people and invite them back to the house. I had helped Mom return to the limo immediately because of her M.S. and the bitter cold day, and I was sitting by the window. Most of the crowd had drifted into small groups. But a group of Joe's friends had stayed at the grave site. These people were mostly dressed casually in jeans and jackets. (I haven't mentioned that we buried Joe dressed like that. Jeans and his cowboy shirt.) Despite the cold, they lingered. I'd heard some comments among the older crowd about how they were dressed disrespectfully for a funeral. (Back then you had to wear a suit to a funeral.) But there was nothing disrespectful about what I watched. These weren't all school friends. I didn't know most of these young people. I recognized the young woman Joe had recently been dating. And Ron was there. I had stayed close to my Mother, but then I wished I could have talked to his friends. One by one, before they left the casket, each one of them stopped at the head of the casket, kissed the tips of their fingers and layed those fingers on Joe's casket. That touched me more than anything else at the funeral. I pointed it out to Mom and we held hands and sobbed. Those young people didn't come to the house afterwards and I never did get to meet them.

W brought TK and Grandma Chief to the gathering at the house. Grandma Chief pitched right in and helped in the kitchen. Then she started washing dishes and stayed till she had everything cleaned and straightened up. I know how much Mom appreciated her help. W was forced to wait till she was ready before he could take her and TK back to Knox county. I didn't follow till much later that evening. After everyone had gone and Mom assured me she was ok, though I'm sure she wasn't till her own Mother left the next morning. My Father always said it was too bad Mom couldn't have spent more time alone with her own Father.