Mr. Bill

Friday, October 7, 2016

San Angelo, TX

It’s 9:30am and I am waking up for a 10:30am departure. It’s the day of Mema’s viewing and we are finally wrapping up our to-do list. Around 10:20am I wander into the hotel lobby and put together a plate of bacon and eggs. My Mom arrives at 10:30am, right on time.

We start out the day with one last stop at the funeral home. We are there to drop off our picture albums and a few last minute additions to Mema’s casket. I have brought a picture of us cooking together. As we are shown to the viewing room, I am gulping coffee and chomping down Altoids in an effort not to burst into tears. However, when we enter I can no longer hold it together. My Mom gives me a brief hug and then we are quickly back to business.

Once everything is settled, we sign the guest book and head back to the hotel. My Dad has arrived and we need to go pick him up. After a 30-minute break at the hotel we all pile into the pickup and head over to Henry’s for lunch. Dad is very chatty about everything except for Mema. My Mom and I are emotionally exhausted so we just let him talk.

Lunch is extremely filling and afterwards we need to head back to the funeral home because my Dad has one last addition for Mema’s casket. It’s Mr. Bill. Mr. Bill is an old dog toy that Mema gave to Millicent about 10 years ago. Millicent passed earlier this year, so my Dad’s idea is that Mema can deliver Mr.Bill to Millicent in heaven. I find this mildly inappropriate, but everyone deals with death in their own way.

As we approach the funeral home we recognize my Mom’s adopted sister, Rhonda, in the parking lot. As we approach my Dad and I are friendly. We all hug and say our hellos. Rhonda has come alone and brought pictures for the photo albums. She gives me the pictures and then sends me off into the viewing room so that she can talk to my Mom. I feel like I should stay but Rhonda is very pushy.

Entering the room for the second time is much easier. I flip through her photos and find that most of them are glamour shots of her daughters. I pull out the few that include Mema and find space for them in the photo albums. In the meanwhile, Dad sneaks Mr. Bill into the casket; I silently roll my eyes.

After a few more minutes we decide to go and rescue my Mom. Rhonda is talking her head off and my Mom looks very stressed. Eventually we separate the two and decide to take a quick field trip to the Belvedere cemetery. Several members of my Dad’s family are buried here. It takes us some time to find the headstones, but it’s a nice day outside and this is a good distraction. After an hour or so we head back to the hotel to meet up with my brother and get ready for the viewing.

It turns out that my brother booked his own room and I am grateful. Admittedly, 3 rooms for four people seems excessive, but we all like our privacy. Once we arrive at the hotel, I sit down with Mike to catch up. We talk mostly about family gossip. After about 30 minutes of conversation and one cup of coffee we head up to our separate rooms to get ready for the night.

I spend about 20 minutes crying/meditating and attempting to get the emotional side of my brain in line with the rational side. I also take a few minutes to iron my clothes and put on make-up. Around 4pm we gather in the lobby again.

We are the first to arrive at the funeral home and each spend a few minutes in the viewing room. From there we gather in the lobby to look at photo albums, watch a looping video of the same photos, and eat teeny, tiny sandwiches, which were provided by the church. I manage to spend the first hour sitting in a big comfy chair, but as the room fills I am pressured to go and visit with distant family members. I spend a significant chunk of time taking to one of Mema’s cousins who own a ranch outside of San Angelo. I also take my turn with Rhonda to help give my Mom space to talk to others. After about 2 hours my feet are starting to hurt and I hoping that the room clears out soon. Eventually everyone leaves and we all pile back into the truck.

For dinner we decide on the Cork and Pig. Dad and Mike partake in beer and pizza, Mom orders a separate pizza and I get a pork chop and wine. The meal is pretty nice and the wine is even nicer. After dinner we call it an early night and all retreat into our separate hotel rooms. Tomorrow morning is the funeral and I am already worried about keeping it together.

Decorative rifles and bible verses

Thursday, October 6, 2016

San Angelo, TX

It’s 8:50am Central Time and I am just now getting downstairs to check out the breakfast buffet at our hotel. To my surprise, it is delicious (parents always pick the best hotels!). I eat a plate full of bacon and eggs and pour a large cup of coffee. It turns out a little weak, but it’s okay, Mom is willing to stop at Starbucks.   

Our first stop is back at the funeral home. We are there to drop off some personal items to put in the casket. We also have to finalize the obituary, confirm the pallbearers, pick out stationary and pick out a casket. We are led into the casket show room and luckily my Mom knows exactly what she wants. It’s a blue marble casket and it’s very nice. We have a brief discussion about the color of the lining before we settle on white. This entire process is strangely transactional. I am grateful for the businesslike attitude though, I prefer to cry in solitude and, apparently, everyone else wants that too.

Next we are shown into another office to go over the final details for the service. James comes in and he is looking nervous as ever. First, he shows us the obituary. I immediately find a typo (this is not good for James’s nerves). We also view multiple possibilities for the stationary and decide to defer our decision until later in the day. There are a lot of options and we need to make sure that it looks good with our photograph. After dealing with a few more details concerning music and transportation, we wrap up our meeting.

Since we are officially across the street from my stepgrandmother’s apartment, we make a quick stop to say hi. She is doing well and is very happy to see us. We spend almost an hour looking at pictures of my cousins and getting the latest scoop on my aunt Rhonda. Vera, my stepgrandmother, will not be attending the funeral; her and Mema were never on good terms.

The next stop is the Southgate Church of Christ, this is Mema’s old church. We walk into the Minister’s office and sit down to wait for Minister Paul Shero. I notice two things immediately; this church is huge and Minister Paul has a rifle displayed on a gun rack on his wall. Ugh. Minster Paul walks in and greets my Mom and I with condolences and a really long hand hold. I don’t really like him but I can admit that he is good at his job.

We all sit to discuss the service and I pop a few Altoids. The conversation stays very logistics-focused. We talk about music and the various options for the service. At one point, he asks if Mema had a favorite bible verse and my Mom and I freeze like deer in headlights. It’s okay though, Minister Paul knows a few. He answers every question with a yes ma’am (even if the answer is no) and continuously fills gaps in conversation by saying “bless her”. I am starting to warm up to him.

After our meeting with the Minister we make a stop at Chilis for lunch. I order a fajita platter that is slathered in queso. Our conversation mostly centers on the language we want to use on the easel for Mema. We want to say there is one rose for each year of her life, but more concise. We are both tired and cannot come up with the right words.

After lunch we head back to the hotel to get through more pictures. The viewing is tomorrow and we do not have our photo albums together yet. I also need to buy a shirt to wear to the viewing; in my hasty packing fit I only packed one formal outfit. In an effort of efficiency, I drop my Mom off at the hotel and head over to the mall to shop.  

The stores at the mall are awful, but I eventually find the Calvin Klein section at the Macy’s, I pick out a floral, button-down shirt and it only costs $20. I can not believe it. 

From there I make a quick run to Starbucks and then head back to the hotel. I check in with Mom, who seems to being doing fine, and decide to spend another hour and half in my room catching up on work. I have to make one phone call to a new hire, who’s employment contract contained an error promising him an extra $8,000. This is going to be a tough call and I have been dreading it. Luckily, I am in a place of good perspective as to what is really important in life and the call goes smoothly.

After I wrap up work and quietly meditate with my new binaural beats app for about 15 minutes, I meet back up with my Mom to help with pictures. We spend about an hour working in her room and then decide to head over to “downtown” for dinner. I look for a good restaurant on Yelp and find one called Ms. Hatties that used to be a brothel. This will be fun.

When we arrive at Ms. Hatties it is completely empty. The host assures us that they are open and sits us at the best table in the house. I order a burger with multiple modifications and the server happily complies. The food is okay and our conversation is low energy.

After dinner we head back to the hotel for the night. We have a more errands to take care tomorrow morning and then the viewing will commence tomorrow evening.    

Bodacious BBQ. There is no discussion necessary.

Wednesday, October 5, 2016

Dallas, TX and San Angelo, TX

It’s about 6am Central Time and I am wondering around the Dallas airport looking for Pokémon on my Pokémon Go app. I have a 3-hour layover before I fly into San Angelo to meet my Mom. I actually slept on the flight from Los Angeles and am starting to calm down from the initial shock of my Grandmother’s death.

I find a breakfast sandwich and eat it without the bread. I also grab some coffee and find my way to my gate 30 minutes ahead of boarding. I decide to use my time to come up with a plan for keeping it together for the next few days. I recall reading about something called binaural beats a while back. Binaural beats are various tones produced electronically and are used for meditation. Meditation seems helpful to my current situation so I download a few apps to sample on the airplane. I also load up my purse up with Altoids (which, for some strange reason, have always kept me from crying), concealer and tissues. Eventually, I board a very small airplane and San Angelo-bound. 

Around 10am Central Time I am exiting the plane at the San Angelo airport. As I walk outside my Mom is literally the only car in the pick up area. We say our hellos and then she is all business. Planning a funeral is a lot of work and we have places to go. I am grateful that someone has a plan.

First stop is the funeral home. My Mom had called ahead to the Robert Massie Funeral Home and was assigned a funeral Director named James. We are quickly seated in his office and when he enters he looks nervous. I don't blame him, my Mom is armed with notebooks full of paperwork and an iPad. I toss three Altoids in my mouth andclench my jaw.

The conversation is professional and my whole role is to agree with everything my Mom says. It’s actually pretty easy and I am feeling glad that I came. The entire meeting lasts about an hour and a half. It could have been done in far less time, but we spent at least 45 minutes watching James stumble through their software interface and waiting for various webpages to load. Eventually we leave the Robert Massie Funeral Home with a plan and a very long to-do list.

Next stop is lunch. I am still very tired and my appetite is pretty off, but I think I can eat some barbecue. There are few famous restaurants here, but only one that has been around since my Mom's childhood. We head over to Bodacious BBQ; there is no discussion necessary. I order a quarter pound of brisket with some smoked cheese on the side. I eat my whole plate plus a few hand fulls of pickles and a diet coke. My Mom does not eat much, but I can understand why.

After lunch we start on our list. The first stop is the florist. My Mom has a specific vision involving Texas wildflowers and the florist easily complies. The spray is easy to pick out. Next we pick out boutonnieres for the pallbearers. I suggest that each pallbearer get a different wildflower and everyone agrees. Next we pick out an easel. My Mom very specifically wants 87 roses to represent each year of Mema’s life. She wants them to be all red, but the florist talks her into a mix of colors (later we will both agree with the florist).

Next stop is the cemetery. Our funeral director has called ahead but we still need to stop by to pay for the headstone and sign some paperwork. When we arrive the manager is just finishing up with another customer. We wait patiently for our turn. Eventually we are seated in a small office. 

The woman in charge seems inappropriately chipper to me. I frown as we run through a few contracts and then have a brief discussion about whether or not to order a burial vault. This is a concrete casing for the casket and, apparently, is not required in Texas. The cost is $900 and there is really no good reason to get one. The cemetery manager advises against it and we agree. The sun is starting to set and we do one quick lap around the cemetery to visit the graves of my great grandparents and grandfather.

Eventually we head back to the hotel. My Mom had already booked a room with a king bed for herself. I decide to book my own room to keep things simple. Once we are all settled, we gather in my Mom’s room to go through mountains of pictures and put together some albums to show at the viewing. I decide this is a good opportunity for pizza and call in an order to Cork and Pig. I leave my Mom with her photos while I pick up pizza and salad.

We spend the evening sorting through pictures and eating dinner on the floor. I am absolutely exhausted but I have decided that it is not appropriate to turn in before 10pm. I push through the next few hours and at 10pm on the dot I announce that I am going to sleep.

We make plans to meet at 9am in the lobby. We are not even halfway through our list.