tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33226151.post351851865934196187..comments2024-01-12T11:26:35.176-05:00Comments on Working Stiffs: Avoiding a Dull FuneralWorking Stiffshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03270595837074553752noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33226151.post-60942974906273799892007-10-05T10:37:00.000-04:002007-10-05T10:37:00.000-04:00What a great story. Actually, as a former nurse (a...What a great story. Actually, as a former nurse (and Joyce's sister), I have been around numerous weird, or shall we say eccentric families. As you can tell by Joyce's story about our Mother's funeral, I suppose we WERE one of those eccentric families. I can honestly say that isn't the only family funeral that included moments of hysterical laughter, or just plain hysterics--period. All of that restraint of emotion during the death and dying, not to mention grieving process has to find it's expression in some form. Seems perfectly harmless to me to have a few laughs about an annoying great Uncle, as long as you are willing to laugh at yourself when your little imperfections perk up to the top of the stew as well. Ahhh---families. Can't live with them, and can't shoot them!<BR/><BR/>Amy (Joyce's sister)Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33226151.post-61078135108048701112007-10-02T17:37:00.000-04:002007-10-02T17:37:00.000-04:00Gina, Lee's from the south. I was going to say tha...Gina, Lee's from the south. I was going to say that he knows all kinds of things to do with pigs, but I'd better rephrase that. I hear he's quite proficient at pig roasts.Joyce Tremelhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00498392016497131719noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33226151.post-34101728908169812892007-10-02T16:48:00.000-04:002007-10-02T16:48:00.000-04:00Uh, Nancy, what exactly did you want Lee to do to ...Uh, Nancy, what exactly did you want Lee to do to that pig? Find out who killed it and how?Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33226151.post-61559473650981602672007-10-02T16:39:00.000-04:002007-10-02T16:39:00.000-04:00Hey, just because we're writing friends doesn't me...Hey, just because we're writing friends doesn't mean we aren't fans, too. <BR/><BR/>Last fall, I attended a funeral for my vibrant cousin who died much too young of breast cancer. She had lived all her life in West Virginia and during the service, at her request, everyone had to sing "Country Roads." There wasn't a dry eye in the house.Annettehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02755947919433555176noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33226151.post-69429211116805404932007-10-02T13:47:00.000-04:002007-10-02T13:47:00.000-04:00Gina, usually I am more than delighted when friend...Gina, usually I am more than delighted when friends get their books published. I'm overjoyed, in fact. But in this case, I might have to shoot myself. But you'll all come to the tailgate, right? And I want Lee to do something delicious with a pig. Consider that a last request, okay?Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33226151.post-19131081122425979352007-10-02T10:36:00.000-04:002007-10-02T10:36:00.000-04:00Excellent post today, Nancy.Probably the most memo...Excellent post today, Nancy.<BR/><BR/>Probably the most memorable funeral I ever attended was the memorial service for my aunt, who passed away from cancer a few years ago. Her adopted son and girlfriend kept "disappearing" during the service. We later learned that they were sneaking out to the car to get high.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33226151.post-75439652238097102702007-10-02T10:23:00.000-04:002007-10-02T10:23:00.000-04:00I attended a funeral yesterday, now that you menti...I attended a funeral yesterday, now that you mention it. My ex-husband's second-third-and-fourth wife, now also an ex, well, her mother had died. Kim was there with her new fiance, who had brought his daughter and ex-wife also.<BR/><BR/>My daughter and I sat at the lunch table with Kim's father whose children ostrasized him because about five years ago, at age 70, he left Kim's mother and went to live with another woman.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33226151.post-71005504393566204622007-10-02T09:28:00.000-04:002007-10-02T09:28:00.000-04:00Who wants to bet that the cousin will finish her b...Who wants to bet that the cousin will finish her book, get it published, and have a best seller?Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33226151.post-66816637149588431772007-10-02T08:44:00.000-04:002007-10-02T08:44:00.000-04:00Ya gotta have the traditional 'burgh foods 'n at.Ya gotta have the traditional 'burgh foods 'n at.Joyce Tremelhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00498392016497131719noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33226151.post-14303893420787136642007-10-02T08:06:00.000-04:002007-10-02T08:06:00.000-04:00Ooh, a tailgate! Now, that would be an event wort...Ooh, a tailgate! Now, that would be an event worth looking forward to. I wonder if I should supply the menu in advance?Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33226151.post-30126335649264592372007-10-02T07:36:00.000-04:002007-10-02T07:36:00.000-04:00I don't know, Nancy. I think I still want the bagp...I don't know, Nancy. I think I still want the bagpipes. And professional mourners--you know, the wailing and gnashing of teeth. <BR/><BR/>My husband wants a tailgate party in the parking lot of the funeral home. And a keg inside by the casket.Joyce Tremelhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00498392016497131719noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33226151.post-33956853562312318732007-10-02T07:35:00.000-04:002007-10-02T07:35:00.000-04:00Great story, Nancy.Every once in awhile, my husban...Great story, Nancy.<BR/><BR/>Every once in awhile, my husband will say, "I don't quite understand how this publishing stuff works." I start to explain it to him and his eyes glaze over. I think it's something you have to go through to "get it."<BR/><BR/>I was 18 when my mother died, my younger sister almost 16, my older sisters were 26 and 28. She'd gone through a long bout with lung cancer, and by this time we were mostly relieved that it was over. One of my grandfather's brothers had been real pain throughout the whole ordeal and he'd actually taken pictures of mom when she was sick and then again at the funeral home.<BR/><BR/>As we were driving through the cemetery to the chapel, we spotted an open grave and my brother-in-law mentioned that he'd like to throw Ellwood into it. Well, that did it. We all started in with ways we'd like to do him in. Most of them painful. By the time we pulled up at the chapel, we were laughing hysterically. During the service, every so often one of us would giggle. I can imagine what the other attendees though. "Oh, those poor girls. They lost their mother and went nuts."Joyce Tremelhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00498392016497131719noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33226151.post-33849346143496265552007-10-02T07:23:00.000-04:002007-10-02T07:23:00.000-04:00Tory, you've convinced me. I want a folk dance ba...Tory, you've convinced me. I want a folk dance band playing Balkan music at my funeral. How festive! And bagpipes are so over.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33226151.post-17707894228106368952007-10-02T06:50:00.000-04:002007-10-02T06:50:00.000-04:00My mother's Memorial Service, 14 years ago, was gr...My mother's Memorial Service, 14 years ago, was great. We asked people to share stories of my mother during the service. I guess we have the attenders to thank, but they did a really good job of turning a rather dysfunctional and ineffective woman into a funny and eccentric one. I guess that's similar to what we writers do, isn't it?<BR/><BR/>I stood up and told a story about how I got my name, and as I was about to sit down my mom's best friend said, "What you don't know, Tory, is that you were almost named Anemone Petunia."<BR/><BR/>Now, at my dad's memorial service ten years before, our folk dance band played wailing Balkan numbers ... (my mom's request, really!)<BR/><BR/>In terms of how the uneducated view our profession, I still would much rather be known as a writer than as a shrink. While most people view writers as entitled scribblers, most people see therapists as someone who can see into their darkest secrets, and therefore scary as Hell. (Sweetie, I do that for a LIVING. Why would I use my spare time that way?)<BR/><BR/>Hmm. Another reason to get that book written . . .Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com