New Year, New Funeral Part II: The Visitation

The day of my grandma’s visitation came and for all their scenes from a Lifetime movie, I was pretty surprised that I and my family were the first to arrive. I was also a little glad. We were able to get some alone time with my grandma before it was time to go into jailyard mode.

The first (after us) to arrive was my aunt Sylvia, uncle Robert, and cousin Viva. Now, they’re all pretty messed up but they’re also some of the funniest people I’ve ever known, and their comedy acts are not discriminatory to location. They’ll talk shit wherever.

Viva and Sylvia, who I hadn’t seen in several years, immediately started telling me and my mom (who was sitting in the pew behind us) what happened at my grandma’s house the day the cops got called.

Apparently, my cousin Beverly the Legal Secretary drafted a text message explaining the legalities of breaking into my grandma’s house. She then sent it to my cousin Mickey requesting that Mickey send it out to the rest of the family, which she did on a fucking Android. 

That mass text was as good as a search warrant for my aunt Margie (Mickey’s mom) so off she went to go break into my grandma’s house, prompting my uncle Robert to call the cops. 

Well, my cousin Viva doesn’t have a job so she listens to her husband’s police scanner all day and of course she hears the call come in for a whatever the number is for this type of novella bullshit. She hauls ass to my grandma’s house to find Margie, my uncle Joe (Margie’s husband), Beverly, and Beverly’s penal code book, all talking to the cops.

How does Viva react to the scene? She starts cussing everyone out and threatening to kick Beverly’s ass while Beverly is in the background reading her breaking and entering rights.

By the way, Viva and Beverly? Both in their mid-forties.

Viva, very maturely, ends her story with “when they get here I’m going to cuss them all out and flip them off.”

Fine.

Eventually, the rest of my very large family began to trickle in, a very dysfunctional reunion where nobody spoke a word to Robert. But what did he care? Not only had he kept my grandma to himself but he’d also made himself the star of the slideshow.

Yes, the slideshow that’s supposed to commemorate the life of my grandma featured pictures of my uncle in his younger years, such as when he was a boxer or the time he stood next to a car. Then there were the pictures of random family members with my grandma nowhere in sight. While it was a nice trip down memory lane, the memories were all SUPPOSED TO BE OF MY GRANDMA.

At one point my aunt “just” Diana arrived. She is absolutely my favorite aunt (even though I can’t keep up with her surnames) out of all of them, I just adore her. She’s a blast to be around and to be frank, she just doesn’t give a fuck. When I saw her the first thing she said was “are you going to rumble with me?” The next thing she said was, “did you see my name in the obituary, like I’m Prince.”

I laughed and then returned to rejoin the trio my cousins Amanda and Nancy had formed. We were Switzerland. As we chatted and caught up on each other’s lives, more people arrived.

And then…

“What’s Mr. Worldwide doing here?” my cousin Michael asked.

“Grandma knew Pitbull?” my sister replied.

Our trio looked up to find my uncle Alex and his Latin superstar-Esque boyfriend walking in. We’d never met him before so this was a really fun first impression as he was dressed in all white like a Bone Thugs ‘N’ Harmony video circa 1996, donned a HUGE crucifix around his neck, and wore sunglasses that I think were permanent because he never took them off.

I sat there and thought “this is for sure how the Facebook Metaverse looks.”

Just then, my aunt Ida walked in. Faux Pitbull became old news. 

She walked straight over to the casket and threw herself on it. I’d only seen that done on TV shows so at first, I wasn’t sure what to do. The thing is though, my grandma was an incredibly tiny woman so my aunt’s theatrics were severely shaking the casket. I did my best to comfort her/hold her still but when that didn’t work I turned around and gave my other aunts the “someone fucking help me” look.

Margie and Diana relieved me and I went back to join my trio. We’d survived the visitation which, by the way, was only 4 hours long. The next day was the final visitation, church service, and burial – plenty more hours.

*Join me Friday for the conclusion of “my immaturity makes complete sense now”



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