Family, death and beer.

Last night, I was guilted into going to a wake. The deceased was someone I had only met once or twice as a child, so this was not someone close to me or my family for that matter. He was...have to think about the family tree, here.... my second cousin's father-in-law. Right. Sort of a "wait, who died? who?" But I was a good girl and went with my mother, grandmother, brother and his girlfriend all the way to Glen Cove (about 45 minutes away) to make mom happy.

Apparently, "I don't do enough" with this part of the family. My (ur, second)cousin, Mary, has always been a wonderful person, and I like her very much. But her family.. is well, I don' t know. ...meh? I haven't liked their 3 children (uh... second cousins...once removed? I can never figure that shit out) since we were all little. The oldest daughter is 5 or 6 years younger than I am and has always been a snotty piece of shit, so I usually made a point of avoiding family gatherings involving them.*

Mom feels badly about that. She thinks my brother and I should make an appearance for, I don't know, representation purposes. Or maybe so that they know we're still alive. Whatever.

Firstly, I have never been to an Irish wake. Now I know that I have hated wakes simply because Italian wakes are boring as hell and fucking depressing. When we pulled into the parking lot last night, there were 20 or so people standing outside hanging around a cooler of beer, slinging back Heinikens while smoking and talking and laughing. The atmosphere inside the funeral home was very upbeat as well, with people talking and laughing - which, HELLO - doesn't happen in an Italian wake. Everything is always so somber and if you're stuck there for the full 3 hour session, twice a day for 2 or 3 days, is boring as fuck to the point where you start counting the flowers in the arrangements for some kind of stimulation. I don't mean to belittle my culture's traditions or anything, but jesus christ, can't we get a drink in here? The best part of an Italian wake is waiting to see if any members of the mafia make an appearance.***

Secondly, I haven't seen my cousins (the second cousins once removed) in years. Since they were, you know, kids. Since I was a kid. It so strange that they are real people now. Real people with jobs, cars, girl/boyfriends, graduating college. Weird. Very weird. In fact, the youngest of the three kids, who is about 15 now, didn't even recognize me.
Even though I had spent many years avoiding these people, I realize that I probably should have made more of an effort to see them. The live around the block from me, and I still never see them. Must do better.

Also I wonder if they're thinking about any of this. Probably not. It probably didn't faze them whatsoever. That girl always was a bitch...




*All this and Mary's husband is a Republican. Who runs for local elections. Who recently found out that I'm living in his district. And that I should vote for him because we're family, afterall**. Right. Maybe now the picture is clearer?

**Funnily enough, they hold fund raisers when he is running for something and always invite my and my mother to them. Mom usually goes strictly out of family obligation and buys something here and there. Though when she brings the catalogue home for me of whatever they were selling, we both kind of cringe at the fact that buying something from this catalogue is supporting the republican party. I had found something that I liked and asked for The Boy's opinion. He said, something to the effect of, if you like it, buy it. "Yeah, but this is for C's campaign fund...." His reply: "then don't you dare. We'll find it somewhere else."
We try not to be obvious about our lack of family support. Republicans...crikey.

***This apparently happened at one of my great uncle's wakes and I totally missed it - I miss everything, yo.