Grandmother's Wake
My Grandmother was a traditional woman of Irish descent and believed very much in traditional values. I’m sure that if you’re from an Irish background or from Ireland yourself, you know that with death there has to be a good old Irish wake and so it was with my Grandmother and when it comes to having the most interesting of all wakes, I think that my Grandmother’s tops all those which have been held since the first Irishman stepped foot in America! It was a doozy!
Now being that Grandmother was the type of woman she was, she had made plans in advance of her passing. First, she had a will. Secondly, she had made all sorts of preparations for how she wanted things to be when it came time, the wake being just a part of it. My Grandmother had made sure to not only plan, but also pay for the whole thing in advance. But when it came to her body, she was determined that her wishes be followed to the letter. One of the things which she had made known was that upon her death there was to be no autopsy and that in preparation for burial, there was to be no embalming. In her words, she didn’t want her “insides to be scooped out and fondled by a bunch of strangers and then have someone pump her full of pickle juice!” And if you knew Grandmother, her word was final. And neither posed any sort of a problem since she had passed from “natural Causes.” And so, while preparations were put into place and things made ready for her burial, Grandmother was put on ice so-to-speak.
The wake was held on the evening before she was to be buried and was held at the funeral home. A good number of family and friends were there to wish her a happy send off, if that’s what it could be called, having to come to say their last respects to the matriarch of our branch of the family tree and to fill their stomaches with food and drink. Please understand that I was only six at the time and my brother was twelve so my view on this wake are a bit askew that probably the rest of the family or for that matter, most normal people. It was in my eyes, a pot luck supper where everyone came with a dish and a bottle of their favorite alcoholic beverage to share with other bereaved while Grandmother, laid in her off-white colored casket in a corner of the room, dressed in her finest Sunday dress, her rosary intertwined in her fingers which were clasped together across her mid-section, and her spirit looking down at all of us and deciding to play the ultimate in practical jokes upon the family. Now please, don’t misconstrued any of what I just said as anything disrespectful. It’s just how I as a six year old kid, viewed things afterward.
Things were pretty much normal for the majority of the wake that evening, Family members and friends of my Grandmother coming and going, signing the big book at the door, going up to the casket where she lay, saying a prayer for her soul, then offering condolences to my mother and father, and to William my step-grandfather. Then going to the set of tables which had been set up at the far side of the room where the alcohol and food sat, drinking and telling their favorite tales about my Grandmother. Yes, everything was pretty much normal for the most part. And then, Grandfather William went up to the casket to say his last respects. I was not witness to the events which followed, I was off somewhere with my brother doing what kids do at that age at a wake. But I was witness to the aftermath. What follows comes from Grandfather William’s own account and the account of others who were witness to it. I think perhaps my mind blocked the whole thing out.
Grandfather went to Grandmother’s casket and rested his left hand down upon the lip of it while he closed his eyes and bowed his head in prayer. It was at this point that my loving Grandmother, sat upright in the casket, her head turned quickly in his direction lolling to one side, her mouth opened and so did her eyes. At the same time, her right hand came down upon his and a hissing sort of gasp came out of Grandmother. Needless to say, the screaming and fainting started, the devout crossed themselves and some soiled themselves. The wake was pretty much over at that point... I would say that such an event would top the scale of creepy wouldn’t you? Of course the funeral director had a plausible explanation - that when a body isn’t embalmed , certain things are bound to happen, such as the muscles in the body continue to constrict which is why dear Grandmother sat upright in her casket and her head and arm did what they did. As for the sound of a gasp, the dead tend to become gassy and when the muscles contracted as they did, they forced that gas to be released through a variety of orifices which had not been prepared as they normally would be - thanks to Grandmother’s wishes. We were told that in order for the funeral home to “repair” the problem, the bones in Grandmother’s neck, hips arm, and back had to be broken in order to get her back into her casket and ready for burial.
The story of my Grandmother, her ghost and of her curse does not end here - not by any means and tomorrow I will tell you all about it...
For now however, please feel free to comment if you wish. And click onto the link below please, if you’d like to read about a little problem I have and how you can get a great shirt for helping! Thank you!
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