Walking back to the Ford Tourneo Courier Ecoboost 1.0 after the second funeral in as many days, a crow (corvis frugileus, or rook) hollers at me, I throw it the last Frolic brand dog kibble hiding in my pocket, which it then eats (for the sake of clarity, I was walking to the car, the crow was sitting in a tree when it yelled). I catch up with my group, who then go to the restroom, which is where I was returning from; eventually we all reunite and hop into the car and enter the address into the (really irritating) GPS thing and depart for the next station of the day, the Leichenschmaus, or funeral meal.
Earlier, standing in front of the casket prior to the talking, I thought about the woman inside, who had lived to 95, and how she had danced the boogie at her 90th birthday party and, when we were leaving and I kissed her on the cheek, turned her head and had me kiss her other cheek too. She was okay.
I had spare ribs at the funeral meal. They were a bit dry but the sauces were good, as were the french fries. Her 4 year old great-granddaughter ran around serving people items she had cooked up on the toy kitchen in the corner of the restaurant’s dining room — I got “spicy coffee.”
Afterwards, we left. Gamma caught a ride to the subway, I drove the rest of the posse home – Beta to her apartment in Vienna, Alpha to our house, Alpha’s mom Alpha senior back to her place.
I was tired. It was partly, I think, the spare ribs, alcohol and schnapps at the meal (of which I partook judiciously and soberly being the driver), partly all (both) the funerals – at which we were more supporting actors than principals, praise be; partly the usual struggle to be social in social situations, partly constantly worrying about a couple cultural things I may have committed myself to a while back involving public interaction with strangers; also the current state of things and, whatever, other stuff, other stuff, other stuff.
After too many funerals you think, first, “boy I hope i never see another funeral” but then you realize what that means and change it to, “boy I could sure use a wedding or baptism for a change.”
And then you go back to other stuff. Hydrating. Getting proper sleep and exercise. Doing a word puzzle for the brain. Learning something. Plotting your next shenanigan or your next hijink. Hugging somebody.
Leichenschmaus
Posted in Das Gehirn, Familie, Metamorphosism
Tags: family, grief, hope, leichenschmaus, life, love, putting the fun back into funerals