Big Horn
Member
- Location
- Cody, Wyoming
The first funeral that I recall was of the last of my maternal great aunts. It was an old-time Irish Catholic funeral, the only one I ever witnessed. The wake was at her home where she had lived with her daughter and her family, husband and two girls. The body was laid out in the living room; the drinks were in the dining room. As we were getting ready to leave, a group of women came in. They were professional mourners who were there to perform the Irish wail or Irish cry. They began to wail in a pitiful but strangely beautiful way. My parents, grandmother (it was her sister), and various other relatives all moved to the door immediately. They were moderns who didn't approve of the old ways. One of my aunts said that it gave her chills through her whole body. My grandmother, her last and youngest sibling, simply scoffed. Years later, my second cousin told me that she'd had nightmares afterward. She couldn't have been more than six or seven at the time. I doubt that my grandmother appreciated my asking her if we could have her wake at our house when she died, but the casket with the old lady and all the flowers seemed almost as good as a Christmas tree. I believe that I was about six.
The day of the funeral we all gathered in front of the church waiting for the body. We didn't enter the church until the pall bearers had taken the body in. The rest of the funeral was apparently very ordinary; I don't remember anything about it. Afterwards, there was a luncheon at a pleasant restaurant where I remember how the atmosphere seemed to suddenly change from sad to festive. It was a family reunion.
I referred the funeral and wake as Irish Catholic, but there was nothing Catholic about the professional mourners who were crooning to the spirits of the dead or, perhaps, to the damned. I'm sure that Maedb and the other gods and goddesses of Ireland were pleased.
This funeral took place in the late forties.
The day of the funeral we all gathered in front of the church waiting for the body. We didn't enter the church until the pall bearers had taken the body in. The rest of the funeral was apparently very ordinary; I don't remember anything about it. Afterwards, there was a luncheon at a pleasant restaurant where I remember how the atmosphere seemed to suddenly change from sad to festive. It was a family reunion.
I referred the funeral and wake as Irish Catholic, but there was nothing Catholic about the professional mourners who were crooning to the spirits of the dead or, perhaps, to the damned. I'm sure that Maedb and the other gods and goddesses of Ireland were pleased.
This funeral took place in the late forties.