Don't look now but somebody died.

I spent most of the day at a funeral today.

Actually it wasn't most of the day. But we had to be at the funeral home at 9 in the morning for a brief wake. One of the aunts of one of the wife's cousins passed away. Now this is our favorite cousin who is the one who does everything for everybody. I mean she goes to every event and always helps out when people need help. So her fathers sister died. She was a bitch on wheels.

You must have one of those in your family. You know the spinster or widowed aunt or grand aunt who is just a major league pain in the ass. Nothing is ever right for her. Nobody does a holiday celebration or a meal or even talks properly like "the family" did in the whole day. Just generally a querulous nitpicking pain in the balls. But you put up with her because she is an old lady and she is family and what are you gonna do.

Now my cousins family is Greek and I had to sit next to the aunt one year at Greek Easter. You see I was low man on the totem pole that year because I had just started dating my future wife. Now the aunt started out complaining but I diverted like I always do. I started asking her questions about the food and how it was prepared and the customs of Greek Easter (breaking the eggs and all that stuff). So she was as happy as she ever got because she could talk and someone was listening. And paying attention and asking relevant questions. So we sort of got along. Not that she wasn't miserable because she was. But like I said what are you gonna do?

Anyway she is up in the box at the wake and there is an extremely small crowd there. About 12 or so people. The wife and I came to support our cousin. What struck me was that everyone was in the back of the hall talking about this and that. No one was talking about the aunt. I guess everyone figured that the old saw is true "If you don't have something nice to say about someone don't say anything at all." So she was pretty much ignored until it was time to box her up and bring her to the church. Everyone did a quick pass through and drive by prayer at the box and then we went to the church.

It was a Greek Orthodox church since that was the tradition she was born in. Now it always gets me when people are christened, or married, or especially buried at a church where nobody knows who the hell they are. The priest has to ask the family for a few things to say about the deceased. So he asked for some nice things to say. That was a stumper. I know when I get planted the padre will have a whole bunch of things to say, some good, some nots so good. But at least he will have some idea of who the heck I was. (Just a pet peeve of mine).

Some other members of the family showed up at the church for the funeral mass which was very interesting to see the differences in the prayers and the liturgy between the Eastern Greek Orthodox and Roman Catholic Masses. Afterward, they went to the cemetery. Several of us did not go so they came back to my house for lunch.

Proscuitto Balls, Rice Balls and hero sandwichs all around. Even my mother-in-law enjoyed her lunch. And it wasn't turkey. Which is another whole story.