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October 22, 2006

The Dash

Two weeks ago, I went to Maryland for my uncle’s funeral.

I don’t see my extended family very often, but I feel like I know them. I don’t know how to explain that. I guess because my dad was in the military and we moved around a lot, it just became a normal thing that I was not that in touch with my extended family. Or my father is a crazy shut-in. One of the two, but regardless even though I don’t see them often, I feel like I know them. When I got the phone call that my uncle had a stroke, I immediately saw a picture of him in my head and I “put off” being sad by being super attentive and meticulous with my daily suburban life. Either, I get up an hour earlier to do a bunch of vain shit before work. Or, I stay up an hour later to fold a bunch of towels and rearrange the “candle” drawer.

Then, about two days before I was to drive to Maryland for the funeral, I came home from work and started crying. Loud and crazy, a real genuine cry mixed with sad and mad. Mad that I didn’t know the man like I should have. Sad that he was just gone now. Then, I started blabbering about a bunch of other things that I happened to be suppressing about my own personal life which led to all kinds of random out loud discoveries. I was like, Am I depressed? Is this what this is? J sat beside me, quiet, but listening. I could tell he didn’t know what to say or do, but he was doing exactly the right thing just holding my hand and nodding his head in response to rhetorical questions.

J and I drove to Maryland. We were meeting my parents there. Shorty does not fly. How a man who spent 20 years in the Air Force won’t fly is on my list of things to figure out about my parents – don’t you worry. And my mom couldn’t fly because she’d just had surgery on her eye. Remember, I mentioned that she’s very excited about her “Steebie Wonder glasses.”

Anyway, it turns out that a very sad circumstance ended up being a really positive experience. Like, my black family reunion. My extended family is beyond amazing. I got to hang out with aunts, uncles, cousins and second cousins that I either hadn’t seen in 20 years or have never seen in my whole life. And when I say they are cool people, I mean, they’re fucking cool.

Then, a series of random funny events that seemed to highlight every stereotype ever in the world happened. This is not meant to offend. I'm just sharing some funny shit that went down so for the random 56 people who monitor and go through this site with a fine-tooth comb for all references to and even NON references wrongly percieved to be about race (like it's a bad thing) chill out. (To Valerie: I know, right?)

When this woman (don’t think she was in our family) read the obituary, she went through and read all the names of his surviving family members. When she got to my mom’s name, she pronounced it NU-CREE-SHA instead of NAR-SEE-SA. My sister and I, both with tears in our eyes from just hearing a poem about my uncle written by his old friend started laughing hysterically. I looked up and my dad was laughing hysterically. To laugh hysterically in a funeral home is entirely inappropriate, we know. We kept as quiet as possible, but it was hilarious. Especially considering that we all decided that is officially her new government name and it’s fitting because my aunties had taken her to the hair salon the day before and Mercy got herself a Mary J Blige flip. For the entire repast, we kept calling her Nucreesha. The best part about it is, my mom didn’t even get it. She responded to it as if we were saying Mercy. Weirdo.

My Uncle Corn (who named his sons Corn who named their sons Corn so there are five Corns) came up to me, my mom and my dad right after the burial and said, “Y’all can take off those stilts now…” making fun of the three of us standing there all tiny. It is so fascinating to see the dynamic between my dad and his brothers and sisters knowing that my dad is the baby and especially the runt. My dad lost his voice that trip laughing so hard. Uncle Corn proceeded to approach J and say, “How did a Jew get mixed up with a Vietnamese?” pointing to me. My mom chimed in and reminded him that technically I was Japanese because I was born in Okinawa. The whole scene was bizarre, but I think it was great that J was there as my dad’s twin sister, my auntie pulled me aside and said, “It’s good that he knows what he’s getting into…”

Before we had even left New York, I asked J what he planned on doing with his enormous neck beard prior to the funeral. I was like, “You know, you’re going to see my parents again and everything. Plus, you’ll be meeting my extended family which no boyfriend in the history of my dating career has ever done so…” J said he’d trim it. I guess trim is relative. The shit was still a gigantic neck beard. Whatever, he’s got to be himself. You can’t change people, you know.

So, in the funeral procession, J’s iPod was on shuffle. The song Angel of Death came on – IN THE FUNERAL PROCESSION. I don’t think he realized it was on, but I was staring at the little screen in his car that shows all the song titles as they play and I was clearing my throat, like hello. J goes, “Oh shit, sorry” and changed the song. I don’t think we lasted a full second before we both started laughing. Nervous laughter, I don’t know. But it was like something somewhere was telling me not to be sad. There had to have been a reason why we were listening to Slayer in a funeral procession. There’s no other way to explain it.

[Entire story which tied back to the neck beard removed because my sister said...]

Anyway, I had a wonderful time with my family. One of my favorite moments was when one of my aunties pulled me aside and held me by the hands and told me that I come from a long line of strong women and that I can always call her if I need anything. It was one of those moments that Oprah talks about where you truly connect with someone. I was so worried about the funeral, but it ended up being a very pleasant experience because my family was into celebrating his life and the fact that we are all together for this event. That's not to say that there were not very sad moments throughout or that there aren't any now. It's just to say that I had a nice opportunity to feel connected to people in my family.

And WOW I really look like my dad who really looks like his twin and his brothers and sisters. So I really look like a portion of Maryland. The cheekbones, the nose, the lips -- my whole face is so Howard which is so ironic because everyone always says I look only Filipino. No, I look so much like my father it's amazing. To see my face staring back at me in a sea of faces of both men and women is so crazy. Like shroom trippin' psychadelic crazy. Even J was like Dude...

So there’s that. That explains my absence. Sorry guys. I was in a bit of a depressive funk. I’m okay now I think.

I still have to tell you about the mysterious piles of dog shit in the front yard and what J and I have done to get to the bottom of it. And I still have to tell you about how one night can be totally ruined with a single text message sent before checking to make sure T9 got all the letters right. And I still have so much to say about FOL’s New York’s plure beneful blist. All for another day.

In the meantime…

This video, no explanation necessary, is awesome and can lift anybody’s depression, I think.

Posted by melissah at October 22, 2006 11:23 AM