Outside of Rockville
Out of the frame on this picture is the Century 21 sign. I’m sure it is a bargain.
At some point I lost track of the phone calls from my mom and my sister, but I know there was at least one more, because I told my sister that Aunt Irene’s first name was really Harriet. That was news to my sister as well. At any rate, everything was ready for my trip to Rockville for the funeral.
I got up fairly early Saturday morning, and spent much of it as I do on most Saturday mornings. I watched some television, ate a small bit for breakfast, took my medication, and thought about going for a walk. That last item never passed the thought stage. Oh, I also printed a map and directions from the Internet. I took my shower and shaved for the second day in a row. I hadn’t done that for quite some time, and it felt strange. As I got dressed for the funeral I thought once more that it seems like the only tie I wear anymore is my black tie, for funerals. On that cheery note, I grabbed a handful of CDs, poured a travelling cup of coffee, and climbed into the car for my drive to Rockville.
I have to say that it was a beautiful day for a drive, and the route I took was very pretty for long stretches. As I drove through Waveland I mused that I could enjoy living in am small town like that. It seemed very pretty; one might say bucolic.
I got drove in to Rockville about an hour before the funeral, which was a half hour before the viewing. Why do they call it a viewing when it is closed casket? So I decided to drive around, find the funeral home, and get a bite to eat.
First I drove past the funeral home. There were a number of people standing outside, in front of the establishment, and I assumed that there was more than one funeral on Saturday. I went around the block and came upon a more motorcycles and riders than I had seen in many years. Oh, and there was one lad proudly riding his moped down the street as well. I’m not sure what was going on, but there was something going on, and it appeared to be centered on a restaurant/bar.
I drove around a while longer, ate some fast food, and returned to the funeral home a few minutes before the viewing was scheduled to begin. When I got there I found the same group of people I had observed earlier, plus I saw my cousin Bill and his wife getting out of their car. So I parked my car and joined them.
We said hello to first, second, and third cousins, and other folks as we moved inside. After chatting with people, we took our seats. My second cousin, Robin, one of Aunt Irene’s granddaughters, officiated at the ceremony. She explained that Aunt Irene had moved from Rockville seventy years earlier, and that none of the local clergy knew her. So Robin, who besides being a lawyer is a lay Episcopal minister, decided to speak since she knew Aunt Irene better than any of the clergy. That makes sense to me.
It was a good ceremony. I left for home afterwards, rather than go to the grave yard. I wanted to take back roads and listen to music. I made sure, however, to drive through Waveland again so that I could recapture the senses of peace and contentment that I had experienced on the way down. Evidently I only experience those feelings when passing through town from north to south and east to west, because I didn’t feel them again on the way home driving west to east and south to north. The rest of the drive was relaxing and enjoyable.
You may wonder why I’ve titled this post Funeral arrangements, part 2, since there is scarcely anything about the arrangements for Aunt Irene’s funeral in the above. Well, I had planned on going on about the arrangements I want to make for myself, but I have probably bored you enough already.
Suffice it to say that I want cremation, followed by JR scattering my ashes on his garden plot. That way he and Trina can think of me every time they eat a cucumber.
I’m pretty sure Cindy wants burial over cremation because she has more than enough hot flashes as it is. I could be wrong, but I think that I am right.