Saturday, March 13, 2004
LOUIS RETURNS FOR AUNT MARY'S FUNERAL
When aunt Mary died all of the nieces and nephews came from every corner of the country. There were seventeen of us all together. We had a deep attachment to her as she had always been a source of inspiration and mystery. Since she never married we had greater access to her and therefore felt she loved us as much as we loved her. In looking back I think she saw our potential and teacher-like, urged us to capitalize on our gifts. At any rate we loved her enough to make arrangements to be at her funeral.
In many cases the great-nephews and nieces attended. John and Becky were unable to go but we stopped in Kansas City to pick George up and then drive on to Blair. The large Stricklett home was bulging at the seams with family hugging and reuniting. Some of us hadn’t seen each other for many years. We made routine trips to Omaha to pick up others who were flying in, one of which, was Louis. He never liked to fly and was glad to be “grounded” again. It was always a relief for him to step OUT of a plane.
The night before the funeral was family night and we gathered at the mortuary to pay our last private respects. It was the same funeral home that all of the Stricklett kids and even I walked by going to school. I only attended the first grade there but the routine was etched in my mind….I was putting my feet each day in the same steps my mother did on her way to school…….as well as the aunts and uncles.
Since mom was the eldest of the six Stricklett kids Louis and I were the first grandchildren. The closest cousins we had were uncle Bud and aunt Pearl’s two children , Ronnie and Mary Beth. Later on a bevy of others followed. Louis lived away so much of the time they weren’t that familiar with him……only through stories. I had been the one to stay close but our ages were so spread my younger cousins all thought I was an “aunt” and not a “cousin.”
Part of that assumption was the fact I was closer in age to some of the aunts and uncles and since I had grown up around them I preferred to sit and visit with them rather than my cousins who were much younger. It was the same on family night. They were not acquainted with Louis at all and somewhat with me.
The day of the funeral brought a horrendous rainstorm. The nephews were to be the pallbearers for aunt Mary and of course had on their good shoes and suits. The attendants from the mortuary had temporary raincoats for the guys but nothing could be done about the shoes. Having lived in south Missouri most of my life I had forgotten how soft the black dirt is in Nebraska. With red clay and all the rocks in Missouri it was no problem to walk in the rain but this was a different story.
The nephews were determined to fulfill their duty and declined any substitutes. The service was in the little church I had been to so many times with Grandma, aunt Mary, Inabelle, Sally and Roger. Grandma had been a charter member of the church and her funeral services had been held there in 1974. I had been baptized at the age of seven in the same church.
The church was full of family and many good words were said for aunt Mary. The nephews carried her to the hearse afterwards and rode together to the cemetery. We followed and waited in our cars while the nephews placed her at the gravesite; then stood in the rain while the last rites were given. I was so proud of my brother and happy he was able to come and be a part of the services.
Uncle Roger and aunt Phyllis who lived on “the hill” next door to aunt Mary for some years was host to the family-at-large afterwards. It was a time of getting acquainted with each other again, of remembering aunt Mary and the telling of family stories. Everyone had a favorite aunt Mary story.
In late afternoon the cousins decided to go to the local pizza shop to eat and visit with each other. It was a fun evening because being so diversified many of us had questions about each other from old stories that needed further explaining. The evening passed with a lot of pizza, laughter and happy memories. By comparison Louis and I had one foot with our cousins and another foot with our aunts and uncles….my brother and I were the bridge between the two generations.
The next day we left in all directions and as we drove down the hill from the house where Louis and I were born I remembered something mom always said. “Blessed are the dead the rain falls on”………if that is true…….aunt Mary was really blessed because she was buried in a Nebraska down-pour……..
Louis boarded his plane for the return trip to Seattle and Gail…..it was hard to say goodbye…………..
Until tomorrow,
Essentially Esther
In many cases the great-nephews and nieces attended. John and Becky were unable to go but we stopped in Kansas City to pick George up and then drive on to Blair. The large Stricklett home was bulging at the seams with family hugging and reuniting. Some of us hadn’t seen each other for many years. We made routine trips to Omaha to pick up others who were flying in, one of which, was Louis. He never liked to fly and was glad to be “grounded” again. It was always a relief for him to step OUT of a plane.
The night before the funeral was family night and we gathered at the mortuary to pay our last private respects. It was the same funeral home that all of the Stricklett kids and even I walked by going to school. I only attended the first grade there but the routine was etched in my mind….I was putting my feet each day in the same steps my mother did on her way to school…….as well as the aunts and uncles.
Since mom was the eldest of the six Stricklett kids Louis and I were the first grandchildren. The closest cousins we had were uncle Bud and aunt Pearl’s two children , Ronnie and Mary Beth. Later on a bevy of others followed. Louis lived away so much of the time they weren’t that familiar with him……only through stories. I had been the one to stay close but our ages were so spread my younger cousins all thought I was an “aunt” and not a “cousin.”
Part of that assumption was the fact I was closer in age to some of the aunts and uncles and since I had grown up around them I preferred to sit and visit with them rather than my cousins who were much younger. It was the same on family night. They were not acquainted with Louis at all and somewhat with me.
The day of the funeral brought a horrendous rainstorm. The nephews were to be the pallbearers for aunt Mary and of course had on their good shoes and suits. The attendants from the mortuary had temporary raincoats for the guys but nothing could be done about the shoes. Having lived in south Missouri most of my life I had forgotten how soft the black dirt is in Nebraska. With red clay and all the rocks in Missouri it was no problem to walk in the rain but this was a different story.
The nephews were determined to fulfill their duty and declined any substitutes. The service was in the little church I had been to so many times with Grandma, aunt Mary, Inabelle, Sally and Roger. Grandma had been a charter member of the church and her funeral services had been held there in 1974. I had been baptized at the age of seven in the same church.
The church was full of family and many good words were said for aunt Mary. The nephews carried her to the hearse afterwards and rode together to the cemetery. We followed and waited in our cars while the nephews placed her at the gravesite; then stood in the rain while the last rites were given. I was so proud of my brother and happy he was able to come and be a part of the services.
Uncle Roger and aunt Phyllis who lived on “the hill” next door to aunt Mary for some years was host to the family-at-large afterwards. It was a time of getting acquainted with each other again, of remembering aunt Mary and the telling of family stories. Everyone had a favorite aunt Mary story.
In late afternoon the cousins decided to go to the local pizza shop to eat and visit with each other. It was a fun evening because being so diversified many of us had questions about each other from old stories that needed further explaining. The evening passed with a lot of pizza, laughter and happy memories. By comparison Louis and I had one foot with our cousins and another foot with our aunts and uncles….my brother and I were the bridge between the two generations.
The next day we left in all directions and as we drove down the hill from the house where Louis and I were born I remembered something mom always said. “Blessed are the dead the rain falls on”………if that is true…….aunt Mary was really blessed because she was buried in a Nebraska down-pour……..
Louis boarded his plane for the return trip to Seattle and Gail…..it was hard to say goodbye…………..
Until tomorrow,
Essentially Esther
