the funeral
saturday was, despite the cold and the wind, a beautifully sunny day, rather perfect for a funeral. it would have been a whole different ballgame if it'd rained.
the service was beautiful. it was simple yet moving, and then we walked out with the urn, laid it in the hole that had been dug next to my mother's, laid our flowers and wept some more. we then walked over to a nearby cafe, where we were holding a kind of wake, if you could call it that. some of our family finally made it there all the way from the other end of Denmark, their first plane having been cancelled. it was very nice of them to come, especially considering they didn't actually know my grandmother. but they'd wanted to be there for us, and we really appreciated it.
once we were done with that, we made our way to my grandmother's flat, where we were to decide who took what. the will divided her things in three: one third to my father, one third to my aunt, and one third to her deceased husband's children. this is where things started to go wrong: said children had not spoken to each other in over 25 years, so when it came to them taking their father's things, emotions started running high and they started arguing. as far as we were concerned, they could argue it out all they wanted...just not in front of us. but there they were, in their late 60s, arguing like children. my cousin lost it and told them to take it outside, reminding them this was a special and very sad day for us all, to which the woman (whom none of us had ever met before and who hadn't come to the funeral) replied: 'i didn't start it!' - children.
us young ones left the 'adults'. we certainly weren't going to sit around while a situation we hadn't created and didn't care for, unfolded. we went outside and sat on a bench, waiting for the relatives to leave. when they had, our parents relayed their apologies, and we made it to the restaurant nearly an hour late. it had been booked for more than 8 - my great-aunt had been counted in the original booking, and the empty seat reminded me of her death just a few days earlier... it was the end of a long day, and by 9.30, we were all completely knackered so we separated with the promise of another long day on sunday...
the service was beautiful. it was simple yet moving, and then we walked out with the urn, laid it in the hole that had been dug next to my mother's, laid our flowers and wept some more. we then walked over to a nearby cafe, where we were holding a kind of wake, if you could call it that. some of our family finally made it there all the way from the other end of Denmark, their first plane having been cancelled. it was very nice of them to come, especially considering they didn't actually know my grandmother. but they'd wanted to be there for us, and we really appreciated it.
once we were done with that, we made our way to my grandmother's flat, where we were to decide who took what. the will divided her things in three: one third to my father, one third to my aunt, and one third to her deceased husband's children. this is where things started to go wrong: said children had not spoken to each other in over 25 years, so when it came to them taking their father's things, emotions started running high and they started arguing. as far as we were concerned, they could argue it out all they wanted...just not in front of us. but there they were, in their late 60s, arguing like children. my cousin lost it and told them to take it outside, reminding them this was a special and very sad day for us all, to which the woman (whom none of us had ever met before and who hadn't come to the funeral) replied: 'i didn't start it!' - children.
us young ones left the 'adults'. we certainly weren't going to sit around while a situation we hadn't created and didn't care for, unfolded. we went outside and sat on a bench, waiting for the relatives to leave. when they had, our parents relayed their apologies, and we made it to the restaurant nearly an hour late. it had been booked for more than 8 - my great-aunt had been counted in the original booking, and the empty seat reminded me of her death just a few days earlier... it was the end of a long day, and by 9.30, we were all completely knackered so we separated with the promise of another long day on sunday...
posted by The Archaeologist @ 5:29 PM
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