Grandmother's
Funeral
Grandmother's
Funeral
Today
was June 16, my grandmother's birthday, the one who died when I was five or so. She lived
with us as far back as I can remember, although my parents tell me she did not move in
until after I was born. I remember three things about her funeral, and nothing else. One
thing I remember is getting a ride there in my Uncle Bert's pickup truck. It had little
fold-down seats behind the front seats, and that is where my brother Steve and I sat.
Another thing I remember is that one of my cousin's kids stepped on and broke one of my
toys. It was a black-and-white, zebra-striped safari truck, and I had left it in a little
patch of sand I played in at the corner of our house. My parents told me it was my fault
for leaving the toy outside. The third thing I remember is a bowl of jelly beans my mom
had for when everyone came over to our house after the funeral. She kept telling me not to
eat them and to leave some for everyone else, but I kept eating them anyway. I remember
nothing of the funeral home or how my grandmother looked lying in her coffin.
June 16, 1998
