Grandma says: “We need to get ready for our guests.”
As a child and even as a young man, I was aware that Grandma Fannie seemed to spend a lot of time at funerals. Well, actually, that is not entirely accurate. Grandma Fannie seemed to spend a lot of time cooking food, brewing large pots of coffee, and baking to either take to the home of someone who was grieving the loss of a family member or to serve at her home. The older I and my grandparents got, the more often it seemed that others were bringing themselves and, of course, food to the home of my grandparents. In those days, I did not think much about the fact that there was always lots of fresh or canned food and gallons of coffee. In addition to what was grown or raised on the farm there were many store-bought items including ingredients for cooking and baking. Certainly, there were no coffee plants or sugar cane on the farm in Oklahoma.
No matter how many people came there was always room and food for more. The first house that I remember my grandparents living in was, I think, a small three room shotgun house similar to the house that I, my parents, and my 3 and then 4 siblings lived in for at least 10 years. I have no idea of how they managed to host so many people or even store dishes or supplies. If it was summer and the weather permitted, the primary living room was the yard. There was also an endless supply of chairs, picnic tables or card tables to hold people and food.
I also remember hugs, tears and laughter at these gatherings. There seemed to be little time just to sit and grieve. As a child and a young man Grandma Fannie would often remind me and my siblings that “We have to get ready for our guests.” Little did I understand that grief was largely channeled into nurturing all those who came to celebrate the life of the person who had died. Later there might be time when sharing coffee and pie to also share tears, fears, confusion, and worries about how one was going to carry on without the person who left. Occasionally, I suspect that there was also relief that the dear Lord could now be responsible for a rather high maintenance person.
It was not a matter of either grieving or getting ready for guests. It seemed that particularly women such as Grandma Fannie could do both simultaneously. Grandma Fannie also did not have to choose between laughter and sadness. Smile and laughter came easily as one remembered the one who had died. It did not take any imagination to summon up the movie of a loved one being silly, laughing or full of themselves. Perhaps, although I did not understand until I was well into my adult years, healthy adults laugh with each other when one of us takes ourselves and this life journey so seriously.
The AIDS epidemic and the Vietnam war provided many opportunities to stare death in the face and to again experience a strong sense of community. Aging and the addiction epidemic is giving many of us more opportunity to do the same. At such times, I recall Grandma Fannie and her reminder to get ready for guests. Times have changed and people are less likely to invite families of those who have departed to their homes although some still observe that tradition. Funerals are now often in funeral homes and not in church. Sadly, often when I do attend a funeral in a church I have to double check to make sure I am at the right funeral. Sometime the name of the deceased is barely mentioned as the celebrant intones the standard prayers only inserting a name when the book says “insert name”. There is no sense of the community having prepared for guests - the deceased and all who celebrate their life. There are exceptions. Monsignor Kevin Quirk is such an exception. When I attend a funeral mass at the Cathedra when he is the celebrant there is a strong sense of a family gathering. Even the scaffolding, such as is currently present so that repairs can be made to the church, add to the sense of home. Monsignor Kevin acknowledges the work being done and says, this is home. Come on in. Let’s celebrate this sacred human. He has, as did Grandma Fannie, been busy preparing for guests. He is busy reminding all of us that we are a family even if some of us have not previously met. In all our messy humanness, we are family. We are sacred.
Grandma Fannie and Kevin would have done well together. She was Southern Baptist and he is Roman Catholic, but both would have joined together preparing for guests. Grandma would bring the coffee pot and pie. Kevin would bring the juice of the vine and the bread. Both would bring heaps of love and laughter.
Thanks, Grandma Fannie. Thanks, Kevin. Hum… Perhaps Kevin is just a reincarnated Grandma Fannie. I think when I next see him I will call him Grandma Fannie and see if he responds!
Written September 14, 2017
As a child and even as a young man, I was aware that Grandma Fannie seemed to spend a lot of time at funerals. Well, actually, that is not entirely accurate. Grandma Fannie seemed to spend a lot of time cooking food, brewing large pots of coffee, and baking to either take to the home of someone who was grieving the loss of a family member or to serve at her home. The older I and my grandparents got, the more often it seemed that others were bringing themselves and, of course, food to the home of my grandparents. In those days, I did not think much about the fact that there was always lots of fresh or canned food and gallons of coffee. In addition to what was grown or raised on the farm there were many store-bought items including ingredients for cooking and baking. Certainly, there were no coffee plants or sugar cane on the farm in Oklahoma.
No matter how many people came there was always room and food for more. The first house that I remember my grandparents living in was, I think, a small three room shotgun house similar to the house that I, my parents, and my 3 and then 4 siblings lived in for at least 10 years. I have no idea of how they managed to host so many people or even store dishes or supplies. If it was summer and the weather permitted, the primary living room was the yard. There was also an endless supply of chairs, picnic tables or card tables to hold people and food.
I also remember hugs, tears and laughter at these gatherings. There seemed to be little time just to sit and grieve. As a child and a young man Grandma Fannie would often remind me and my siblings that “We have to get ready for our guests.” Little did I understand that grief was largely channeled into nurturing all those who came to celebrate the life of the person who had died. Later there might be time when sharing coffee and pie to also share tears, fears, confusion, and worries about how one was going to carry on without the person who left. Occasionally, I suspect that there was also relief that the dear Lord could now be responsible for a rather high maintenance person.
It was not a matter of either grieving or getting ready for guests. It seemed that particularly women such as Grandma Fannie could do both simultaneously. Grandma Fannie also did not have to choose between laughter and sadness. Smile and laughter came easily as one remembered the one who had died. It did not take any imagination to summon up the movie of a loved one being silly, laughing or full of themselves. Perhaps, although I did not understand until I was well into my adult years, healthy adults laugh with each other when one of us takes ourselves and this life journey so seriously.
The AIDS epidemic and the Vietnam war provided many opportunities to stare death in the face and to again experience a strong sense of community. Aging and the addiction epidemic is giving many of us more opportunity to do the same. At such times, I recall Grandma Fannie and her reminder to get ready for guests. Times have changed and people are less likely to invite families of those who have departed to their homes although some still observe that tradition. Funerals are now often in funeral homes and not in church. Sadly, often when I do attend a funeral in a church I have to double check to make sure I am at the right funeral. Sometime the name of the deceased is barely mentioned as the celebrant intones the standard prayers only inserting a name when the book says “insert name”. There is no sense of the community having prepared for guests - the deceased and all who celebrate their life. There are exceptions. Monsignor Kevin Quirk is such an exception. When I attend a funeral mass at the Cathedra when he is the celebrant there is a strong sense of a family gathering. Even the scaffolding, such as is currently present so that repairs can be made to the church, add to the sense of home. Monsignor Kevin acknowledges the work being done and says, this is home. Come on in. Let’s celebrate this sacred human. He has, as did Grandma Fannie, been busy preparing for guests. He is busy reminding all of us that we are a family even if some of us have not previously met. In all our messy humanness, we are family. We are sacred.
Grandma Fannie and Kevin would have done well together. She was Southern Baptist and he is Roman Catholic, but both would have joined together preparing for guests. Grandma would bring the coffee pot and pie. Kevin would bring the juice of the vine and the bread. Both would bring heaps of love and laughter.
Thanks, Grandma Fannie. Thanks, Kevin. Hum… Perhaps Kevin is just a reincarnated Grandma Fannie. I think when I next see him I will call him Grandma Fannie and see if he responds!
Written September 14, 2017
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