Saturday, December 10, 2016

telling stories

 It is customary to only share family stories with family. Well, at least those family stories that are less than flattering. I've never been accused of following custom too closely, I love to tell the stories. And so I will tell this short tale. My Mom is the only one alive to have witnessed this and she doesn't use Facebook so I'm guessing I'm safe. I am reminded of this tale this time of year. You see my grandfather Horace passed away on Christmas eve back in '49.
 Now the way the story was told to me is like this. Grandfather Horace expired in his bed. Grandmother Bennett called the undertaker and he told her he would be there in the morning. Well, it was Christmas eve and all and what was the hurry ? It was quite late, past nine anyway. So the blanket was pulled over his face and he was left in bed. Grandma sat in her rocking chair. My mother and her sister were still at home during this time. Mom was twenty and recently separated. My two older brothers were with her. Grandma had ten children and the word spread quickly. Soon there was a house full. As the evening progressed and the grief began to overtake some, tempers flared. The talk of what to do, and who was doing what, all that stuff boiling like a cauldron. Then the final Uncle appears on the scene. Uncle Bud we called him but he was really Horace Jr. and Horace Jr. was like his father, he enjoyed a drink or two. He had been celebrating and really had a snoot full.
 Now, in he comes and begins to get excited. Did you know after you pass away your body continues to make sounds ? Well, it does. Uncle Bud hearing those sounds begins to insist his father is alive. Everyone knows that he isn't because the doctor had been there and told them otherwise. Besides any sober person would have known. But he begins to insist on that and his two brothers grab him and pull him out of that bedroom. As you can imagine the scene is getting a little intense. Grandma is getting pretty upset about this time. The brothers grab Uncle Bud one more time and throw him bodily out the front door ! Uncle wore glasses and they went flying in one direction and him the other. He gets up off the ground, staggering around looking for his glasses. In his condition and it being dark outside he can't locate them. All at once he stops, gets on his knees and says " Father forgive them, for they know not what they do. " And that is where the story always ends. What happened following that I can't say. All these years later it is a story that is told for the humor in it. Yes it is a tragic event that sets the stage for this story but it is funny. At least I've always thought so and Mom assures me it is the truth.
 Well that is quite the Christmas story isn't it. Mom says that Christmas morning back in 1949 she watched the undertaker carry her father past the Christmas tree. It was a somber Christmas indeed. The kids, my brothers, were still quite small and wanted Santa and all that. Christmas went on as usual. Some will say this is an inappropriate story to tell. I say it is the memory I have of my grandfather Horace. I wasn't born until 1953 and so never knew him. Grandma and Mom never talked much about him. The only thing I know are the stories about him and they aren't favorable to his character. Still it is what remains and I will pass it along.    

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