Rest in Peace

(How creepy is this image??? And why do I wrongfully suspect that it is simply a snapshot for some Will Ferrell trailer?)

Well, I went up to New England at the end of last week for my Polish grandmother's funeral. There were many things that really struck me while in attendance:

1. I was amazed that so many people came by the wake and the liturgical services to pay their respects. Family members that I haven't seen in years, previous neighbors of my grandmother who have since moved away, co-workers of my mother and my aunt, and so on... It was very touching.
2. Seeing so many people turn out for this kind of event really illustrated this concept of community, and "hometowns" with village charms. It is a sentiment that seems to be fleeting in this day and age, especially considering economic downturns that have left many homeless and jobless, needing to find shelter where ever they could. It made me appreciate and long for those kind of sustainable ties and friendships. Seeing that sense of community made me feel like I had stepped back in time, as if my grandmother's funeral was an episode of Lost, and time travel was now possible. (Was my grandmother John Locke?!?)
   
3. It was incredible to witness firsthand so many relatives' and distant acquaintances' reactions to the news of my gender transition. One second cousin, who is of my mother's generation, kept exclaiming: "Oh my god! Oh my god!" with wide eyes, and a glimmer of enthusiastic curiosity. (She has always been one of our favorite relatives, with her urbane sensibilities, after years of residing in the West Village.) I *knew* that her irrepressible reaction to my transformation, although shocked, was not one born out of malice or disgust.
   
4. Honestly, it was a relief to "come clean" about my evolution, and candidly share my experiential knowledge from both sides of the great gender divide. I feel liberated from that fear of wondering the ever-taunting "what if's" that seem to gnaw away at us when we try to divert ourselves from a head on collision. Phew! (And the best compliment of all was when this cousin said that she wished her own mother -- my grandmother's sister-- had still been alive to witness my changes. This cousin seemed to think that he mother would have found it a "hoot," and enjoyed the endless amounts of questions to toss my way. I would have enjoyed that volley back and forth, as she, too was also one of our favorite, more open-minded family members.)
5. I gave the eulogy at the Catholic church, and despite a few flubbed words, or spontaneously ad libbed lines that were probably redundant and wildly inappropriate – I feel really proud of myself for stepping up, and accepting the challenge. It's doubtful that anyone is ever "thrilled" to write eulogies, under the implied circumstances, but I was proud to override the requisite anxiety and self-consciousness to remember that it wasn't about *me* that day. It was about honoring this beloved, yet snarky, matriarch of my family. And from the consensus, my eulogy was able to capture that very balance between the two.
6. The priest (who looked like a more handsome versions of Brian Cox) overseeing my grandmother's services appeared to be flamboyantly gay. He made far too much eye contact with me, even winking at me at one point, when no one else was looking. Um... Really? (It's like that Will & Grace episode when Will hit on a guy who's grandmother just died, but thought he had a chance since the guy was wearing Prada shoes in Schenectady. Ya, kinda like that, 'cept I was the Prada shoe guy, and Will was THE PRIEST OVERSEEING THE SERVICES!!!) But anywho~
7. I saw many touching moments, observing the husbands trying to comfort the distraught women in my family. To see the energy those men exerted, and how consolation is a multi-tiered approach – it made me proud of these men, and also made me hope to someday find my own other half. Someone whom I can comfort in the most trying of times, and someone whom I hope could be there for me in those same gestures. Someday...

Thanks to everyone who offered up their condolences, and their eulogy pep talks – they were all a huge help!

I am glad that my 99 year old grandmother can finally rest in peace. And also relieved to know that after this whole experience, I can also rest more peacefully from here on out.


I hope this finds everyone well, and maybe even cherishing what they love all the more...