Today I want to Pennsylvania for the day. Not for a happy occasion mind you, well perhaps one of relief. Today I went to my Grandmothers funeral. Most normal people would take a day or two to do this, but I am insane and have some thesis filing deadlines to contend with. So I left my apartment in Boston at 3:30 (after trying to go to bed at 11 pm) this morning to head up to Manchester, NH to catch a 6:10 am flight. No problem I get in to BWI around 10:40 and make my way over to the new rental car complex (nice idea having it away from the airport and just a 10 minute shuttle ride). I went with Enterprise rental, ended up wait for about 30 minutes in line since they were the only company out of about 6 that had any business at the time. Was waited on by a guy who was only 10 days older than me, but he looked about 5 years older, odd.
So in my mind I though the service was as 2:30, so I figured I had time to kill and had called a friend from the area to see if he wanted to catch lunch. We have a nice catch up lunch and I leave 1 hour to get to the service. About half way there I get a call on my call from a number not in my phone book. It’s my Dad, “Where are you?”. “On my way to the service.” “It starts in 15 minuets!” “Shit! I thought it started at 2:30 and not 2″. This is while I am driving and operating on about 3 hours of sleep and he tries to give me directions when we get cut off. I soon realize that I had the wrong location as well. I though it was at a funeral home in another city. My parents were up in Boston for Easter and I though I knew where the service was being held. My father said that he would send me direction via email, but I guess things were too hectic and he never sent them. So I was going on my memory, which may have been impaired considering that I was running a 99.3 F fever when I talked with my folks.
I call the number back. My Dad does not have a cell phone, so I have know idea who I am calling back. Ends up it’s my cousin’s husband. He gives me directions to the church and says that if I get lost to just ask for the Prepeterian Church, so I figure “no problem, I’ll just be a little late.” I follow what I think are the directions (remember to consider my mental state and a little added stress) and end up at a Lutheran Church. I drive around town (we’re talking about a total of 8 streets in the whole place) and find multiple other Prodistent demoninations, but no Prepeterian. So I stop by a convyience mart to ask for the “Prespeterian Church”, “Which one?” “There’s 3 over there and two more ’round that direction.” Crap, so I shift through my memory for a name, “Shady Maple” (Not the real name by the way, you don’t need to know where my grandparents are buried). A guy in the store over hears me and thinks that he might know where it is. He starts to give me directions and then realizes that he doesn’t know exactly where to direct me. So instead he tells me how to get to a used car dealership that is on the way. Tells me that they should know where it is.
It took some time, but I did get to the dealership. I can only imagine what the secretary at the front office though of me. A longhaired young male in a suit who is slightly frazzled. I ask for directions, but she doesn’t know and I am directed to the back office to ask for Diane. “Shady Maple?, Let’s see. You need to go down to the 5 street intersection around the corner and take the road on your far right. Not the one directly in front of you, but on the far right. Keep going straight and Shady Maple will be the fifth church on the right. Not sure how far away it is, maybe 3 miles or so.” I thanked her and went on my way.
Her directions were spot on and I finally got to the church and I got to the church a full 30 minutes before the rest of the funeral party. I get a call from my uncle (father’s brother) asking where I was. My father was wonering. “Is he pissed?”, “Yup, a bit”, “Though maybe.” My Dad can have a bit of a temper, a trait I’ve been know to have as well. Everybody go there in due time and we put my grandmother to rest. The woman could finally have some peace.
Than the wake, well a gathering back at my cousins house. Small talk with people that you are related to is tough. You feel like you should know them better, but since you only seen them at weddings and funerals you really don’t know that much about them except the fact that you share some blood lines. In my case my parents don’t even know most of them that well, they are just a childhood memory or they have heard about them from their parents. I can only stay a few hours and make a beeline for BWI. The flight back to Manchester was uneventful, but I don’t get back into Boston and in my own bed until about 2:30 am.
Back and fourth to Southern York Country Pennsylvania in less than 24 hours. Man was I beat. You have to do these things though and I don’t regret it.
