Y’all, Funerals suck.
My grandmother was buried yesterday. She is at peace. I know that she is in a better place. I have yet to properly grieve. I have wept silently to myself. I have thought about what her mansion looks like in the pearly gates.
I also had to read a poem at the funeral. I was told a poem would be prepared for me to read. However, I thought to myself the night before… “Do you really think they will provide a poem?” So I got to scribbling a poem on my iPad.
It turned out pretty good, I kept it very simple, but tried to deliver the message of celebration of life. As I sat there reading it to my family. I looked out at my family. They were hurting. I felt that my words were not enough. They were not meant to be enough. The loss of a mother, a sister, a friend. It was too soon to attempt to lift the spirits of the broken, even though my grandmother is no longer in pain and has the biggest wings of them all.
I looked in the eyes of my aunts and uncles, their eyes were glass, they looked like they could be cast members of the Walking Dead.
At this moment, I realized that death doesn’t bother me. No matter how bad its hurts. Life on this earth, hurts worse. Seeing her laying in her casket. She was at peace. She wasn’t worried. You can tell that she was reunited with her mother, her father, her sisters and my dad.
So many people came up to us at the funeral. Requesting photos…at the grave sight. A spectacle of the Spann’s. I am totally against pictures in a cemetery or near it. It seems so disrespectful. But there I was…cheesing it up for family members who swore they changed my diapers, but deep down inside..I was not certain if that was true.
Then came the part where she was actually buried. My family owns a funeral home, and they do the absolute most. I LOVE IT. They released doves. Now.. you guys… I don’t know if it was my emotions being taken for a ride on the crazy train.. but as soon as they discussed releasing doves….I couldn’t stop giggling. I thought back to that viral video of the pastor releasing the dove at the funeral… and it dies. I held it together and thankfully the birds survived.
Saying goodbye is hard. Saying goodbye again is even harder. Seeing people sad kills me. Thats why my funeral has already been pre-arranged:
Theme: Mardi Gras
Attire: Bright Colored Ball gowns, and men in tuxedos
Time: 11:00 PM- I want this to be a night burial too.
Eulogy: 10 minutes
Soloists: Beyoncé or Lizzo– Literally Lizzo though.
Readers: Luvvie, Lena Dunham, Amy Schumer, Mindy Kaling
Christopher Walken will read “Where the Wild Things Are”
Pallbearers- no one. That is the saddest part to see pallbearers having to carry their loved one. Its the part I cannot take. I lose it.
Casket- Purple RENTED for ceremony, switch me to a pine box for burial. Because THE COST OF CASKETS CAN PAY FOR COLLEGE TUITION, A CAR PAYMENT, GROCERIES…
NO CRYING ALLOWED. If you cry, security will escort you out.
Repass Menu: Rotel Dip, Homemade Trail Mix, Mimosas, Fried Chicken, Collard Greens, Corn…on the cob, Bacon,… Bacon. Hamburgers, legit if someone puts mayo on anything, I’ll haunt you.
We will Second Line.
Funerals suck and Peter will be at the gate saying “Come on Lady, your dad, your grandma, and the rest of the gang is all here… choir practice is in 10 minutes.”
I love you grandma.
Love Hard while we Live. Celebrate Life when we die.
Pictured: Grandma, my mom rocking the dashiki, my dad, me, my brother, and Michael Jordan doll.