A Death In The Family

My uncle died the other day. I wasn’t very close with him, really didn’t know him at all. He was my Father’s brother in law, his sister’s husband. It wasn’t unexpected as he had been ill for quite a while.

The funeral is today. It’s very strange to wait so long because in the Jewish faith the funeral is always held the day after death, unless it’s the Sabbath, then it’s held the following day. The stated reason for the delay is to let the out of town family time to get there. It turns out that my Mother and I are the ones traveling the furthest and we’re only an hour and a half away.

I think what they’ve done here is try to make it more of a convenience for everyone instead of the opposite. I guess I can understand that but this is a family that, at one time, had at least one of their kids Bar Mitzvah at an orthodox synagogue. Seems strange to me.

Along with that is the idea that they have asked me to be a pallbearer. Of course I said yes but this too is very strange. See, in the Jewish faith there are a number of tribes. I don’t understand the whole thing but the tribe my male bloodline belongs to is called Cohanim (sp). Again, excuse my lack of thorough knowledge on the subject, but the Cohan’s are like major big guys in the faith. We are supposedly direct descendants of Aaron, the brother of Moses. I have no idea how they figured that out but some of the things that go along with this is the idea that we are never allowed to be in the same room as the dead, that we are not allowed to be pall bearers and are not allowed to set foot into a cemetery. I guess it’s the walking among the dead thing. I don’t get it but it’s something you learn as a kid. I’ve been in cemeteries before but always felt a bit weird about it.

Like I said earlier, I really didn’t know him that well. When we were young we would see their family on a regular basis, they lived in Detroit and we were in the suburbs. One year David and I spent the summer with them when Mom had surgery. Even during those times I can honestly say I probably never said more than three or four words to the guy the whole summer. There were no bad feelings or any kind of fear of him or anything like that; we just never got to know each other. I knew my aunt and their three kids real well but not him.

I feel sad for my aunt; they had to have been married for well over 50 years. And my cousins, of course, have lost their father and that can never be easy.

My Dad won’t be there, he thought it more important to fly to the Virgin Islands with his girlfriend I don’t know much about what’s left of that side of the family but I’m sure they’ll be there in good numbers. I just find it strange that they would want me to be a pallbearer.

That side of the family has always felt that we were much closer with them than we are and I think that’s what’s dictating what’s happening here. I feel no need to let them know how close our side feels we are to them. It’s not that important. I’ll be there to provide whatever it is they think I can and nod at the appropriate times when we discuss how close the family is and how much we all miss each other.

So I’ll spend today with my Mother and take a few hours out of my normal football Sunday to be with people, that without today’s event, I would probably never see again. It’s one of the things you do when you are part of a family and I think, more importantly, it’s the right thing to do.