I entered the Twilight Zone yesterday. If you think I’m referring to Edward, Bella, or Jacob…I’m not talking about that Twilight Zone. The one I experienced yesterday was a lot more real and a lot more strange.
Let’s start from the beginning…
My mother was orphaned when she was 5 years old. Her parents met in the Army, married, had three children, and things got crazy. Her father decided that he couldn’t be tied down to a wife and three kids and one morning he disappeared forever. This caused my mom’s mom, Jean, to have some sort of a nervous breakdown which she never fully recovered from. My mom and her two younger brothers were then sent into foster care where they were split up and eventually lived with different families.
Life moved forward and over time my mom had the opportunity to spend some time with her blood relatives over the years. During this time, she never saw her biological mother until she was 12 years old. After that one interaction she wouldn’t see her for another 35 years. A call from my mom’s Aunt informed her that her mother was in a nursing home and she was not in good health. My mom finally had a conversation with her mother one month before she died.
I got a call a few days ago that my Grandma Jean had passed away. I asked my mom if she would be attending the funeral since I didn’t know the level of anger she still possessed for the woman who had abandoned her. Once she said yes, I told her that I would go with her. I had a feeling my mom was going to be having a really hard time with this one. So many mixed feelings had to be rushing in.
The funeral was about an hour drive from Cincinnati and I had no idea what to expect. This grandma of mine…who was she? Did she have lots of friends? What did she do for a living? What did she live for?
We arrived at the funeral home and that’s where the weirdness really began. I was no longer living my own life, but it was as if I was in a movie I had never seen before. There were only about 10 people at the funeral and I was immediately known as “the grandson”. I walked into a room with nothing inside except a casket. The casket was open and I walked up to see who exactly this Grandma Stranger was. As I looked at her frail body it was obvious that the house was empty. This was simply a shell of whoever used to live there. I wondered if I should feel something, but there was nothing there. My mom wept as she stood over the body of her dead mother, who was almost as much a stranger to her.
My mom had talked little about her out-of-town family growing up, but I remember her describing them as “VERY country” – I didn’t understand what she meant until yesterday. In an effort to be as honoring as I can while describing this story, I have to confess that it scared me a little bit. My roots. Where I came from. Well…how?? Now trust me, I don’t think of myself as some kind of fancy pants. I didn’t go to college. I grew up in a lower-middle class setting, blah, blah, blah. But most of these people at the funeral were Great Aunts and Great Uncles…and they were nearly unintelligible. It was hard to understand anything they were saying. My kin.
Think Appalachia. Think Deliverance. I’ll stop there.
After an hour or so of head-spinning introductions to family strangers, we sat down for the funeral message. The man who got up to speak wore a blue suit with highwater pants that fell approximately four inches short of his shoes. He had three teeth in his mouth, two on the bottom and one on top, and a bright red nose. He seemed quiet at first, but once he began his message it was clear that he was an honest to goodness fire and brimstone preacher. He started things out by asking us to raise our hands if we were Christians, and then moved onto talking about the end of days, the signs of the times, and eternal damnation. We were in a small room and he screamed so loud that I assume even Grandma Jean could hear him. After his message, he came up to me and put his hands on my shoulders saying, “It’s going to be okay son. This is going to be hard…you’re going to miss your sweet grandma, but you’re going to be okay. You’ll get through this.”
There were so few people at the funeral that my step-dad and I, who were complete strangers to this woman, had to be pallbearers. There were four men at the funeral and we were assigned to carry the casket to the hearse, and from the hurse to the gravesite. As we sat by the casket right before it was lowered into the ground things felt surreal. I was completely connected and disconnected at the same time. I was glad I went to support my mom, but I was also glad that I took some things away from the experience. I recognized a pattern within my family that’s not a pleasant one. It consists of loving people, but being okay with with letting them slip away through a series of apathetic decisions.
My Grandma only had one friend at her funeral. That’s beyond sad to me. It wasn’t that they had died off. She wasn’t even very old. It was plain and simple…she didn’t have people in her life. Her choice was to live the life of a hermit and it seemed that the rest of the family was doing the exact same thing. They had stories about the glory days of when they were little and actually communicated with each other and that was all they had to hang on to. My mom’s brothers weren’t even at the funeral because no one knew where they were…no one had spoken to them in years. It’s a sad existence to be sure.
In the opening book of the bible, God says quickly that it is not good for man to be alone. Isolation from His creation is like hell on earth. When we separate ourselves from our fellow humanity, how can we experience the good things that God has for us. Sure it’s hard…and it’s dangerous…and people will hurt us…and it might SEEM like it isn’t worth it. But when you’ve reached the end and it all comes to a head, you don’t want strangers carrying your casket to a grave.
We have to make an effort.
We have to move past our guilt and shame and make the most of what’s around us.
We have to keep reaching because there might just be someone out there reaching even further.
I mentioned that I’ve been watching the T.V. show LOST in a recent post. For some reason, I feel like that show is helping me to say yes to things I wouldn’t normally say yes to. God is revealing to me more about the adventure and that it’s always worth it, good or bad, to take the risk and follow the rabbit trail. You might seem crazy at first, but you just might find something that you didn’t know you were looking for in the first place.
Just as things with the funeral were finishing up, a woman approached me and asked me “What size shoes do you wear?” I responded with “Huh?” – and she repeated the question. I told her, “A ten.” Then she asked, “Wide or skinny?”…
“Uh…kind of just normal…why?”
“I got some boots for you…two pairs of boots in the car.”
“For me?”
“Yeah…gottem at an estate sale a long time ago. Been lookin’ for someone to take em’.”
I’d have accepted these boots from her but we were standing right next to the casket and she wanted me to take my shoes off and try them on…and well…it would have been kind of insane to take some other dead person’s boots from a strange lady. Or maybe not.
Thanks for this post. It is actually what I needed today.
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Um….wow…
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Wow – what a very weird situation
You handled it so well, with a lot of grace
I’m sure your Mom appreciated you being there
x
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thank you for posting such a personal experience. i always take something away from your posts…
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Wow Ryan, I am speechless. You’re an awesome son to have been there for your mom.
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Ryan…. I can’t even think of a response to this post except…. “huh”?!?! O_o
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Sweetheart are we RELATED? Sounds like a few family funerals I have been to.
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Interesting post Ryan. My father-in-law just passed away last week. It’s amazing to me the differences between the funeral I went to and the one you did. My husband’s family are all wonderful, loving Christians and there were several friends of the family there too – also Christians. It really means something to have that comfort of family – not only relatives but also the family of God supporting one another. Yes, we truly need each other!
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You just described little bits of my family with the Appalachia reference, so I totally understand.
You are truly a wonderful son to stand by your mother during what had to be an emotionally wrenching and confusing experience. I will say a prayer for her tonight.
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Dealing with death by degrees – a sad variation on the Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon game. In an esoteric sense – we never really know our family members but that was an extreme (think Jerry Springer) example. How sad for your mother and wonderful she had you with her. I hope to see a picture of you in those shoes – or not – the passing on of old shoes seems acceptable when the recipient has no OTHER shoes. Just a thought – bless your heart -
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I have been to a funeral exactly like that…wow…
this whole wasn’t really weird to me; I just kept nodding my head and saying, “uh huh, hmm, yeah”
for me the weird part was the boots…that’s weird, my friend.
hug your kids and wife extra tight tonight
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Amazing experience for you. I, too am glad that you went with your mom. Sometimes it is hard to imagine how you are related to “family”..when they seem so foreign to your way of life and the mainstream’s way of life.
The boots incident is really bizarre but I think in her own way she wanted to give you something she thought had value to “take care of” you….
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My father was a loving husband and father and a lay minister to a small non-denominational congregation, but he did not mince words if you know what I mean. At his graveside, after a lovely memorial service filled to overflowing with family and friends, a little old lady showed up, she had had words with my father when he was in his early twenties, and had told him in anger that she would dance on his grave, so she did. It still hurts. Not only because of the disrespect, but because she had spent her whole life carrying that grudge around. I pray she can find peace.
Forgiveness is for your benefit not for those you have wronged, it cleanses you from the hurt and festering that comes from holding on to a grudge. I have a wise friend who told me once that you “take” offense. In other words you choose to be offended.
I pray we all can find peace.
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TheDan says:
June 13th, 2010 at 4:31 pm
@Charming’s Mama,
Dear lord, what a terrible old lady. To spend your entire life filled with that kind of hatred and anger must be terrible.
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Plano Mom says:
June 15th, 2010 at 4:48 am
@Charming’s Mama, I agree with Dan. I feel so sorry for that woman that she never knew the power of forgiveness.
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A poignant story. It leaves you blinking and wide eyed at the same time. God’s plan is not always understood but someone at that funeral needed to see you and your mother together… Loving each other…And respecting another, less fortunate soul. Praying for His peace in all of this confusion.
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Thank you for sharing this. I think often lately of how our family has been touched by grace . . . how significantly our family has changed over the last several generations . . . how much hurt sin has brought, and how much we have overcome. When I see how different my relationship is with my children from what my grandmother had, I am grateful beyond belief.
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The moments in life when it feels like we’ve stepped throught the looking glass appeal to me cause you can examine important, personal things -like the isolation issues in your family- with a layer of emotional insulation and hopefully come away with some insight without quite so much damage.
Besides, who need hallucinagens when we have real life?
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Great story… the lesson learned was what I really needed to hear today. Thanks!
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You have one of the most interesting blogs available. I love how you have escaped from the dysfunction of the family, yet you hold onto it as a reminder of how far you’ve come, and to guide you to where you are going. You are an incredible human being…..Thanks for sharing yourself with us.
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I’m driving my mother this summer across three Canadian provinces to revisit some of our own “Appalachia” relatives. Have you ever seen the movie “Fargo”? Yep, that’s them, only they all live on the farm … not that there’s anything wrong with that. Except that they look down on *us* for being Christian and (their words) “city folk”. My mom has two aging sisters she hasn’t seen in 10+ years who are not in good health, thus the trek “back home”. I haven’t seen any of them in 20+ years, and have no emotional connection to anyone back there. Strictly doing it for my mom, who since my father passed away a few years ago, has felt a need to reconnect to her roots. Long rambling way to say, appreciated this post for helping me realize – yet again – how grateful I should be for the “family”, both blood & church, that God surrounds us with.
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wow. just wow. you are an inspiration in so many ways. thank you for sharing about your grandma. i’m sorry for your loss. you’re wonderful for supporting your mama like you did.
sending love.
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Ryan, you are a mensch, and a good son. What an interesting experience, and thank you for sharing it.
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What a great lesson from God to be blessed with. It’s not always pleasant acknowledging where we come from, but it does help us figure out where we want to go.
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Been a fan of LOST for the entire six years, and I feel the same way.
The way you talk about your granny’s funeral is what I think about every time I go to a funeral for someone. What will my funeral be like? Will there be anyone there? How will I be mourned? WILL I be mourned. My mother also lives the life of a hermit, disconnecting herself from her entire family. I fear her outcome will be like your granny’s.
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WOW! That was one crazy story…but not totally unbelievable. My husband is an ER doctor…this man of mine sees and hears family histories all the time that are just dag-gum nuts. But it is what it is and we just have to know God put us on a path and somethimes that path takes some freaky weird turns. Thanks for sharing.
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I don’t even know what to say other than that we all have some surreal family moments, that’s for sure.
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This post really touched me. I also recognized this pattern in my family, in me. I have made some horrible mistakes in my forty years and they have cost me relationships. As bad as the cost to me, I know that I have hurt other people and they have payed a cost even greater than mine. I work towards redemption and forgivness. I hope for grace from God. I’m not yet sure who will be willing to carry my casket when my time comes.
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Hi, I found this through (pardon the spelling, I’m not sure about this word) Pioneer Woman. Anyway, liked your writting very much, from the recipes to the faith stuff. Particularly liked listening to things from your church, because churches here in Brazil are very strict and that kind of pushed me away as I got older.
I’m very happy I found a different way to be a little in touch with Him.
Anyway, just wanted to say thanks.
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Interesting post…sometimes people just have a different way of relating to each other. I come from what I call “backwoods country” and while we have some interesting characters in our family, they are all just people. I grew up in and still attend a small country church with a pastor that preaches the love of God in a most passionate way. We shout, we play old style country gospel music, and we praise God. Some people are lost, some people relate differently but people are just people and God loves them all. I’m glad you went with your mom…it was good to support her. God has a plan for all of us and sometimes we go through things for the purposes of that plan.
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It’s sad your Mom never had a relationship with her Mom. What about her foster/adoptive Mom?
You did right by taking the shoes. No telling how long the lady had been holding them, waiting to help out someone who needed size 10 shoes.
And you know, they could have asked you to preach the funeral. Now that would have been awkward!
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Ryan, what you said about the lack of people in your grandmother’s life really struck a chord with me. It was a similar situation when my mom died last year. There were about 16 or 17 people at her funeral, and almost half of them had never met her (they knew me). She was only 61, it wasn’t like her friends had gotten old and died before her.
The reasons for my mom’s isolation were different from your grandmother’s. In her case, the problem was fear. She’d had a lot of bad experiences in life, and she worried incessantly; I think she felt the more she worried, the more control she had over her life. And I think the more she stayed at home, the more she felt in control of things. As a result, she didn’t know a lot of people.
This was such a tragedy to me, because Mom was so kind, so compassionate. She had a real gift for making other people feel special. At the funeral, the funeral home provided a stack of cards that people could fill out with their memories of Mom. A few people did, but there were so few people there, there was a big stack of unused cards left over when the service ended.
I don’t want to make assumptions of God’s will for Mom’s life, but there’s no way the lack of people in her life was how things were supposed to be. It’s such an awful shame she wasn’t able to use her gifts to help people who were hurting. There should have been a big stack of people’s memories at the end of that funeral, a whole bunch of people who’d been touched by my mom. But there weren’t, and it still kills me to remember that big stack of blank cards.
If anything good has come from this, it’s the realization that you deprive yourself of so much when you try to avoid the fears and hurts in life. Life is to be embraced, even if it hurts like hell sometimes.
I’ve also realized that even though there will be people who never know my mom, there will be people who know me. I can show them who she was — and show them the Jesus she loved so dearly — by treating others as she did.
I’m sorry, that was a looooong response. Here’s the short version: I hear you, bro!
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Beautiful.
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I can completely relate to so many facets of this story. Thank you for opening up and sharing with us. My dad was born and raised in Middletown, Ohio. I have a fair understanding of the people there and could possibly related to some of those people you mentioned.
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Thank you for sharing. It’s an awful lot to process.
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beautiful, you are brilliant. I grew up in WV (lived in FL now for 26 yrs)and just very recently had a similiar experience.
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Bizarro!
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Wow, what an amazing experience.
When my uncle died — no one was sad at his funeral because he was a very vile and mean man. People came to his funeral out of respect and support for his children.
Then when my grandfather died (at 93) almost all of his friends were already gone. However, the church was filled to capacity and beyond with all the people whos lives he had touched. He made a difference to so many.
It is just a choice, how you live your life. I think I don’t want to have people glad that I’m gone.
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What a bizarre experience?!
Those are some pretty rad boots!
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Unfortunately this sounds a LOT like my family. I dread funerals because as someone from the middle class (now) with some education i am horribly out of place. You did a good thing by being a good son. i am sure your mother felt the strangeness too.
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Loved that entry, just what I needed. Don’t for a minute think you don’t reach someone by writing this, it sure did with me. I got alot out of this post. I had a family friend to my dad who passed away and had only family attending, no friends. It is sad to think that people choose to live like hermits. We think it is hard but it is harder to live life, take chances, let people in, maybe get hurt. I know I wouldn’t want it any other way. Going to repost this to my mirror and highlight the part about God says. I need a daily reminder.
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Every family is unique, some in a bizarre way, some in a vile way, some funny & joyful. But we must all learn from our upbringing, to either emulate & embrace or to run like hell & not look back……
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Every family is unique, some in a bizarre way, some in a vile way, some funny & joyful. But we must all learn from our upbringing, to either emulate & embrace or to run like hell & not look back……
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Wow…Dude, you gotta write a book!
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This is an amazing story, and it sounds very similar to some of my family stories. Crazy, strange, and downright bewildering! However, I’ve been eperiencing the same feeling of wanting to live a herrmit’s life. The craziness that goes on within mine and my husband’s families is very destructive, meaning, most of our family members are in the habbit of being abusive, self-destructive as well as destructive of relationships and the lives of others. They never know when to quit, and the only way to escape it is to disassociate, disconnect, and pray that they leave us alone. Finding and keeping good friends has also been a challenge for us. We’ve learned a lot of hard lessons, but most of our former friends don’t seem to be learning any of life’s lessons. Solitude is a very attractive alternative for us.
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Lydia says:
June 13th, 2010 at 6:56 am
@Cora, Cora, just because you have a pattern in your life, all your life, does not mean that you have to keep that pattern.
Perhaps for a season you need to be more alone. Take time to heal and learn new habits, new ways of looking at life. Get healthy emotionally.
But make friends, find healthy people (or as healthy as they can be) that are supportive. Learn how to support others, how to be a positive influence on those around you and you will find yourself surrounded with people who care about you and don’t abuse you.
Got has a plan for your life, you can live it.
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Wait a second, why didn’t you wear your boots to church today? That part was funny. Strangely I think I would have been totally fine with taking boots from a stranger at a funeral. I’m a big fan of experiencing new people and places. This sounded different for sure.
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Your sharing was profound, however, I hated seeing the reference to Appalachia, not that I am from there. I have lived in 6 states, never Appalachia or Ohio. There are plain, uneducated, profoundly challenged people, self enclosed families living in every state. As you pointed out it was one hour south of Cincinnati. I can tell from reading your blog that but you have a kind, loving spirit, so I am assured that you meant no harm. Your grandmother (although a stranger) and mother were honored by your well intended attendance.
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Ryan says:
June 13th, 2010 at 7:43 pm
@nancy, I said Appalachia because I meant it. The funeral was not where the family was from…they were from an area near Appalachia. No harm meant…just stating a truth to get the story across.
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nancy says:
June 15th, 2010 at 10:50 pm
@Ryan, Gotcha,Thanks for explaining Ryan, You are a loving son, and I think that is so insiteful….. to address the need in someone you love, whether you understand it or not. We wade thru some difficult waters to help our loved ones. You did good!!
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It was nice that you were there with your mom. I can’t imagine her going by herself. As my mom always likes to say; “Life is stranger than fiction”. Sad but interesting post.
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Interesting post. It’s those twilight zones that get us to really thinking. I went along on a trip to Tennessee with my maternal grandmother in the mid 80′s. Appalachia. It was beautiful and scary and has poked at me at various times over the years. The where and the why some people stayed and some moved on. I learned a few weeks ago (at a celebration of life – no ordinary funeral) about my paternal grandmother’s family sojourn on the Trail of Tears. Never knew we had Cherokee ancestry.
If only shoes could talk.
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Ryan….you ARE an incredible man, with incredible experiences that are clearly meant to share and change lives and encourage. I was touched by Tim’s message on Sunday….and now this “message” from you.
Prayin’ for ya!
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Prayers for you and your Mom. I think it is awesome how you continue to seek relationship, even when others would give up hope. It seems that everything you do and think is about your relationship to God and others. That’s an incredible gift.
And the boots? It was that womans need to give those to you. And you were a wise and perceptive person to know that and to accept them.
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Very sweet story. I felt like even though your mom was not there for your grandmothers life (not by choice, but go with me on this), she was there when it mattered even if it was in death… you and your mom were there when your grandmother didn’t really have anyone else to care or even carry her. Just shows you guys are good people with very big hearts.
Reminds me that it’s important to forgive once in a while.
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Hi Ryan, I follow your blog here and there and thoroughly enjoy it. I’m a mom to 2 kids and I home school so I don’t get on the pc much and I rarely comment. There’s something about this post that I keep coming back to. It bothers me but I’m not entirely sure why. Before I say anything I’d like to clarify that I realize you’re expressing your thoughts on this and since I am not involved in any way, my perspective doesn’t really matter but I thought I’d offer a different perspective anyway. I hope it doesn’t offend and please don’t take it personally. As I said in my comment above, I come from a “backwoods” country family. My mom and dad both quit school in elementary school to work on the family farm but went on to have successful careers, one as a business owner and one as an electronic technician. My extended family are out there country and most outsiders wouldn’t be able to follow a conversation with them but they are awesome people that I love dearly. So, I’m saying this more to some of your commenter’s than you, but they are no less than other people just because they are “uneducated”. The assumptions made about “uneducated” people is just something that really burns me up. The other thing is this…my dad died unexpectedly about 8 years ago, when I was 22. The funeral home had 2 visitation rooms and there were so many people there that they had to open both rooms and we still had a parking lot full of people that couldn’t get inside. My dad was loved and I loved him dearly but he was an abusive jerk to us. An angry, hateful, violent jerk. My mom suffered his abuse and fed every person that came to our house and there were a lot of them everyday because my dad’s shop was on our property and there were always customers at dinner time, she defended us and took the brunt of his abuse, they had couples that they were friends with that she welcomed into our lives and hung out with, she practically half the neighborhood kids, and so on. She is an amazing woman but when my dad died and she finally got over it, she started dating another man and none of those hundreds of people at his funeral would have anything to do with her because they felt like she was betraying my dad. Not even all those kids that called her mom when I was growing up. 8 years later she still has no one but us 3 kids and 7 grandchildren. We are probably the only ones that would be there if she died tomorrow and she is one of the happiest and most full-filled people I know. We keep her so busy she barely even sees her home and she knows she is loved immensely. So, I guess my point is, (and obviously you know more than I do about your family situation so maybe I’m projecting here and I’m really sorry if that’s the case) but a person’s fulfillment in life has nothing to do with the number of people at the funeral. What may seem sad to someone is not always as it seems. Yes, it’s sad that my mom, the one who worked behind the scenes to love all these people has been left behind since my dad’s death but she doesn’t feel that way. Ok, this is long enough and I guess I got out whatever it was that was bothering me about this post. Thanks for hearing me out.
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Thank you for sharing your experience with us. I’m glad you went to your grandmother’s funeral, even though you did not know her. At least you saw a piece of her and your family, however small it was. As for the boots…um, wow.
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Wow, you were meant to go to that funeral with your mom.
What a strangely powerful post today Ryan–thankyou.
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I really enjoyed that story. It’s great that you kept the boots! Now every time you look at them or wear them you will remember that akward moment and have a great story.
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that last comment kind of came out weird – in essence, I meant that if it were me, looking at the boots would give me a chuckle and a kind of fond rememberance concerning grandma and the experience.
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I really loved this post. You have a great way of drawing the reader into the story. Thank you, it was very thought provoking.
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Ryan, your statement “It consists of loving people, but being okay with with letting them slip away through a series of apathetic decisions” so perfectly describes the way my family has been for years. Many of them are also “backwoods” but they just seem to have lost all hope. I have a brother who has died of a drug overdose, uncles, cousins, aunts, etc… who are either addicted to drugs or are alcoholics and no one seems to bat an eyelash… It just IS. The weight of their apathy is so heavy that I can almost physically feel it. And it seems that all I can do is pray.
Thanks for sharing this.
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What a poignant story of family and loss, but also of connection. The boots seem weird, yes; but they are the widow’s mite, you know? She saw your heart, and she gave you all she had to give. Very cool.
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Hi there may I use some of the material from this post if I reference you with a link back to your site?
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