Ode To Elizabeth Mary Ryan

What can I say.
It's Monday.
It's raining and cold. A damp, relentless cold that makes me wish I had socks on. Like those assholes in high school who wore socks and sandals and shorts well into December, I am protesting wearing socks in the house. It's still summer dammit.
The weather is fitting any how.
Last week my sister in law lost two of her grandparents, one from each side, within days of each other. Her grandmother on her father's side had been sick for a while now. So as sad as it is, it wasn't without expectation. For the next bit, you have to understand that her father's side are Newfies. That is, they are from Newfoundland. And unless you want to suffer the mockery of an east coaster don't ever call it like it's written. It's Newfin-land, understand? Ok. So the funeral itself was, of course, very sad. Very catholic and very sad. When it finished, we retired to an aunt's house who lives nearby. It's packed. There is a ridiculous amount of food that I immediately help myself to and then to the backyard where I park myself on a card chair amongst a lot of newfs I don't know. This is where the day gets a little more interesting than I'd expected. One of Lisa's uncles is showing off the box he made that will serve as an urn for his mother's ashes. I look on with a heavy heart as I can't imagine how hard it would be to have made such a thing. That is until the uncle started into the story of the box. Hilarious actually. Lisa's grandma had requested something nice to be taken home in. Hence the box. But being newfs, none of it could go off without some jest. So they all had teased her they'd be sendin' er back to Newfin-land in a Mason jar. Which is exactly what they still plan to do; A Mason jar inside the beautiful box. And inside of that, her. But before she was to be cremated there was one more thing. A smoke. But as Lisa's uncle so eloquently put it "What good's a fuckin' smoke without a light." So in they tossed a lighter and said, "Now she'll really go out with a bang!" This story was told amid roars of laughter and tears. It's hard to relay without the accent and the pre-knowledge of the wit of a newfie. But let me tell ya. Hearing it, made me wish I'd had the chance to know Lisa's grandma a whole lot better. The eldest of 5 girls and 11 brothers, Elizabeth was dearly loved and I know there are many empty hearts that aren't so jovial today.