Part 175 Weddings and funerals


Four a.m. is early to get up on a Saturday, but Craig and his wife Sherilyn will be by at 5:30 to drive me on this cold and soon to be colder morning to Shreveport, Louisiana to attend the funeral of my dad’s twin brother James. Craig and I talk a lot during the drive. We take a short cut in east Texas down Mansfield road through a town called Keachi, shaving off a few miles on this drive I have made so many times over the years. We arrive early, so we have a little time to drive down streets I once traveled over – Youree, Anniston, to Justin, the street we once lived on. We take King’s Highway down past Captain Shreve High School (where Craig attended for one year before being rudely snapped away when dad was transferred to Houston), down past River Road (a street I cruised down often, hoping to catch a glimpse of a beautiful blonde named Karen whom I finally managed to get one date with), then back again down Justin. The house we grew up in looks tinier each time I see it, and its owners have neglected its upkeep.

Less than a mile away is the Catholic church where my aunt and uncle were members for as long as I can remember. The exterior looks the same, but the inside was remodeled in recent years. I was here last just a few years ago, for the funeral of my aunt Marie, who had been married to James for about as long as my parents have been together. It seems that I only return to my home town for extreme events – weddings or funerals.

After a traditional mass and grandchildren speaking touching words in remembrance of my uncle, we walk out and very briefly mingle with relatives. Billy is back from Colorado and his sister in from California, and some others have driven west from Alabama and Florida. My uncle, as my dad, was well loved by his family and friends.

We exit quickly and my brother wants a hamburger from Strawn’s, a favorite of ours from old days located across the street from Centenary College (where my dad took us to watch basketball games). The place is packed, though, so we drive to Nacogdoches and stop for sandwiches there instead. I duck into a college shop and by a college t-shirt for the first time ever (some time to start supporting your school) and we drive off under progressively clouding and cold skies.

At home, the kids go crazy over my brother and his wife, insisting on showing them their rooms and everything else. Becah has chosen this day to slyly rearrange the den furniture. I fool her by not getting bothered but rather being a good sport and adapting. After Craig and Sherilyn leave, we eat pizza and watch the Three Musketeers on DVD.