the funeral was formal and long, beautiful and tragic, but good. on tuesday afternoon, i was at a funeral home in chicago with family for the wake. it was like a great family reunion. i was able to see aunts and uncles, great uncles and great aunts, second cousins, first cousins and their children. we have a large extended family. some of them had not seen me since i was fifteen. my grandmother's body was in an open casket at the altar. candles were burning beside her. rosary beads were woven through her fingers, the nails polished mauve by the embalmers. for as long as i knew my grandmother, she never polished her nails. her face was calm. she looked like she was napping and at moments i expected her to open her eyes. "surprise, dear. i'm not really dead." i remember her laugh, a warm and joking laugh. family convened in the room for 7 ridiculous hours, passing in and out of the lounge. there was no alcohol in sight. what irish-catholic wake has no alcohol? i had to wonder. two bus loads of old people - mostly women because we all know men tend to die before us - came to say farewell. i shook many old hands and looked into eyes of women who lived through the 1920s and world war II.

we created a montage of photos taken over her 80-some years, which people could look at to remind them of her life. my favorites were from her wedding day in 1948. she was gorgeous, young, thin, so happy getting married to my grandfather. her bride's maid and life long best friend, mrs. thomas, stood beside her. i would have never recognized the woman with white hair being escorted in by a young man as the mrs. thomas had we not been introduced. it was the mrs. thomas 50 years after the wedding photos. she had an oxygen tank and looked somewhat disoriented. i cannot imagine what that day must have been like for her.

my feet were killing me by the time we left the funeral home. now i understand the meaning of a "wake." you have to stay awake because it lasts so damn long. i was feeling emotionally exhausted from watching family break down in front of her casket. i felt like i had already mourned her loss. i had already said goodbye. her soul was not there. the following morning, we returned after breakfast to the funeral home for a ceremony given by a priest. i watched almost all the men fall apart emotionally, which i never expected, and my aunts and mother started breaking down as they had to say goodbye to her for the last time. we got into cars and followed the hearse to the church for an elaborate catholic mass and funeral ceremony. my grandmother had a full choir and everything. after that we drove in the funeral procession out to the gravesite chapel for yet another ceremony, then visited the actual gravesite. it was peaceful, and she would be buried beside my grandfather and his family. as we returned to the car, the gray sky began to rain, echoing the tristesse. we feasted at a nearby restaurant in a private dining hall where uncles and aunts told stories about my grandmother. i loved being surrounded by family and wished that we did not live so far apart. my grandmother was the one who brought us together and got me out of texas. rest in peace, grandma.