Does This Look Like a Funeral?

The Great Plotnik was so proud of his family yesterday. Cousin Jeff Greenberg, who knew he didn't have much time left, told his family he wanted them to play basketball after his funeral, just like we have done at every family gathering since the beginning of time. No sadness and no big deal.

Do these three look sad, or just beautiful?

Well, of course it's not that easy. First, inside the mortuary, we listened to the Little Bear (in the middle above, and then Jeff's beautiful daughter Elaina ( below), known to you all as Cousin Two Names, give glorious testament to a guy few of us ever really knew. They told it like it was -- nobody's perfect, but every daughter is lucky to be Daddy's Little Girl.

Plotnik listened, and wiped tears from his face and thought: Gee. I hope my kids will say things like this about me some day.

Wayyyyyyyyyyyyyyy into the future.

Plotnik's cousin and Jeff's wife Mother Two Names has always been a rock. She'll have to get used to a quiet house, but she will do it. She's got her two kids and two grandkids to help her through. Yesterday she was unafraid -- to cry or to laugh. She did a lot of both. But that's how things are supposed to go.

And she was able to hug a sweaty Schmekl Plotnik, not an easy thing to do.

Many thoughts went through Plotnik's mind yesterday. One is that you never really know the whole side of anybody. Parents show one side to their children, one to their mate, one to their friends, maybe another to their workmates. You go to someone's funeral and sometimes people give testimonials. Not yesterday. Cousin Two and Little Bear spoke from the soul. Plotnik found himself thinking this:

How do you go to family functions for 35 years with basically the same people -- and know so little about a particular person? Jeff was a quiet guy, and at family parties he was surrounded by us loud guys. Plottie was never able to draw him out -- it was always pleasant but never deep. The only conclusion to be drawn is we both had plenty of time to do something about it and we never did. 

One thing is for sure: Jeff was a good guy. I love his kids. How much more do you need to know?

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After the funeral, but before the basketball game, Plot took Mummy P. down the hill, to the shady spot near the trees, where her parents, brother and his wife, as well as The Chief, are buried. Plottie kneeled at the gravestones, said hi to Grandmummy P. and Grandpa Ben, and to Uncle Morrie and Aunt Betty, and to Chiefie. 

That wasn't weird -- he has done this before.

What was weird is that between his grandparents and The Chief is an empty spot, with no marker on it. Mummy P. doesn't see very well, so she ended up standing on that very spot. It went Chiefie (below), Mummy P. (above), Grandma and Grandpa (below).

Someday we'll all be standing here again, if we are lucky enough that the world should turn in its proper order. No out of order kids. No unforeseen disasters that lead to cemeteries.

And Plottie will not forget that sight yesterday -- his Mom standing, with her cane, on top of her spot, looking down, in the heat, and the birds are singing and the grass has been freshly cut and it is clear that Surely Goodness and Mercy Will Follow Me All the Days of My Life.