Last Ride, Last Son

Before Friday's funeral, there was Thursday's visitation.  My parents -- all three of them -- were there.  I encountered friends of my brothers that I had never met before, most of whom I never knew existed.  Two former next-door neighbors that I had not seen since I was 14 came to pay respects.  Many of my friends, old and new, came to the visitation and/or the funeral.  I saw cousins that I hadn't seen since I was 2 years old.

Daina/Andrew, Doug/Eva, Megan/Austin/Amy, my manager, and others sent flowers; many more of my friends sent cards.  I have about 10 or so cards on my mantelpiece right now from various friends.  I appreciate receiving all of them, and they still continue to arrive.

The service was beautiful.  It was pouring rain -- I found the weather to be very appropriate.  My brother had a shocking number of friends that he never mentioned, since he kept his friends very separate from family.  It's interesting how similar funerals are to weddings.  This was my first funeral.  Being a pallbearer and giving the eulogy, as I did, is akin to being the best man in a wedding.  At the end of the service, the pallbearers lifted my brother's remains onto a rolling cart.  Each of us put one hand on the coffin, and we pushed him out in front of the congregation.  We then loaded the hearse, and greeted the funeral guests outside.  Eventually, I had to join the convoy, so I told the friends "Gotta go...it's the last ride for the big guy."

Due to the rain, the last rites had to be done at a chapel at the cemetery.   I sprinkled the holy water on the casket, which had to be closed (I was thankful for this, because I wanted to remember my brother as he looked when he was alive).  A videographer videotaped all the proceedings, in order to create a DVD to be sent to relatives in Nigeria who could not make it.  Also, a simultaneous funeral service was held in Lagos, Nigeria (where my brother was born), as well as another Nigerian city. 

Only family could go to the gravesite because of the rain.  When my brother's concrete vault was sealed, the rain intensified for a moment, then eased back into the normal downpour.  When his gave was covered after the coffin had been lowered, the rain intensified again at the very moment it was covered.  God may have punched my brother's card, but apparently it gave him no pleasure to do so. 

Thanks to everyone who showed up, and everyone who sent us condolences, flowers and donations.  On a lighter note, my dad made a completely-unexpected black joke during the course of his remembrance.   I  immediately knew that many of my friends would assume that's where my racial sense of humor came from.  They are probably right. 

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