I was in Michigan last weekend for the interment of the cremated remains of my parents and my one and only Uncle. I made plans weeks ago, airline, rental car and hotel reservations. The family plot is in a cemetery in a remote area, a mile further down the unpaved road from where I grew up. I was staying the nearest major civilization, about an hour's drive away. I had allowed an hour and a half for the one hour drive, abiding by my mother's maxim that if you were not 15 minutes early, you were late. That was so engrained in me that I obsessed over it for 50 years. I have gotten better, but it is a hard obsession to break.
We left the hotel with plenty of time, and I missed a turn, and didn't realize that I had missed the turn, for 45 minutes, at 70 miles per hour. I was looking for my exit, and realized I was miles from where I needed to be. I got off the expressway at the next exit, turned on Ms Garmin and realized I was 56 miles away, with about 45 minutes to be on time. I was going to be late, to my mother's funeral, the the burial of the person who gave me the obsession about being on time.
I took the most direct route, probably pushed the speed limit a little. Had J send my sister a couple of text messages, that we would be about 10 minutes late. As I rounded the last corner, my cousin, my one and only uncles, one and only child, went zooming by, pulling into the cemetery right before me. For Lysle it was kind of expected. His parents were always fashionable late, much to my mother's chagrin. In years gone by my mother would have killed me for being late to a funeral, being late to hers - how ironic.
Once everyone was in place, things started soon after I arrived. All went well. No one died because Lysle and I were 15 minutes late.
Have you ever been late for a funeral?
Yes! Just a few days ago, and we were really pissed off about it, because we weren't late! We knew we weren't! In fact we pulled up in the church parking lot with 5 minutes to spare. Walked into the church, and signed the "visitor's book thingy", but I was confused by then because I could hear the minister speaking!
ReplyDeleteWe entered the church as quickly as we could, and the rest of the service continued.
I was very grateful later when my cousin, who was the organist, and had been playing for half an hour or so before the service began, mentioned that he was a little thrown off by the minister starting "a good 5 minutes early". He got himself an extra hug for that.
I do hate being late.
(It was my 90 year old demented-for-several-years aunt's funeral.)
ReplyDeleteNot yet. But I've know people who have been told they'd be late for their own.
ReplyDeletehave not been to too many funerals; and the deceased ain't gonna know anyway.
ReplyDeleteNo I haven’t yet been late to one.
ReplyDeleteI do remember a couple where I wasn’t welcome, one of which I was asked to leave.
Never been late for a funeral . . . . yet! You were there, that's all that matters.
ReplyDelete