I can't remember if I posted this or not, but I had to explain to my SIL about the plain pine box my grandfather was buried in. She looked terribly shocked, like we were poor or disrespectful.
I wanted to call Nilly, because I don't think I explained things very well.
I can't remember lots of stuff. It's been a fucked up week, and it's only Wednesday. Off to sit shiva again. Don't wanna. Wanna sit here with the nephew and play "We don't need no stinkin' buggies!"
It's a game that involves zooming around the house on a tiny racecart and pumping our fists in the air while yelling, "We don't need no stinkin' buggies!"
I don't get it either, but it's mad-fun.
Love and thoughts with you , Allyson. And some strength~ma tossed in.
And some mad Stinkin' Buggies skillz, too. Just for good measure.
That sounds like a great game, Allyson. Sorry about the SiL shock. I hope the week gets easier for you.
It sounds like a most excellent game, Allyson. I look forward to seeing you and your nephew take the Stinkin' Buggies gold at the next Olympics.
I'm sorry you had to be all Cultural Explanation Girl with your SIL (and irked that she looked shocked at all -- the pine casket isn't
that
obscure a tradition, and other people's funeral arrangements aren't anyone else's business anyhow).
How dare they tell us how young the pony looks and then NOT SHOW US THE PONY?!?!?!
New York City is home and I may have been a New Yorker before I even moved here. A bit of Jersey lives within, however.
I told my folks that if I go first, they should rent a casket for the family viewing and just put me in a refrigerator box for the cremation.
Also, um, aren't the silk-lined shiny shiny monstrosities very -- new? I mean, okay, my coffin knowledge skips from
How the West Was Won
directly to
Six Feet Under,
but the good old pine box is not exactly caveman equipment, you know? It was good enough for cowboys!
(I'm sure that advocates of the open-coffin funeral feel differently, but, I think open coffin funerals are gross.)
My mother has requested a pine box, but that's just because she's quasi-hippie. She also wants to be buried in Maine, but there's no way I'll let her be embalmed, and I'm told it's illegal to transport an unembalmed body across state lines. So she better plan on dying in Maine. Many, many years from now.
Wi fi cups of lurve.
Okay, can I have that go-home dispensation? I'm hovering on the edge of migraine, and if I left now I could nap before my 4 o' clock meeting. Also afterwards.
No funeral for me. Cheapest cremation possible. Spread me out in the cedar grove of my grandparents property and have a kegger after with lots of stories and 80's music and bad 90's rap. No crying.
