T'was an interesting day. We buried my grandfather today.
Needless to say, it is an experience I won't forget. We started the day at 8.30 in the a.m. with a lot of people at the funeral parlour, including the she-monk who was here the night before. To cut a long story short, we prayed, she-monk chanted, there were kneelings, sitting, and butt-clenching (my ass?, hard as a rock!), more chanting, I nailed the coffin, kinda did the jig, got onto the mourning bus filled with mourners in the morning, went to the hill, more praying and chanting (those monks sure know how to drill a song into your head!), got rice and beans thrown on me, got myself a facial steam from the fire burning the fake house and the Mercedes with the Michelim tyres, removed my socks, and got my a ticket to hell for the unnecessary and inappropriate comments I made during the whole process. ("When I'm dead, I'd like to be marinated with BBQ sauce and then cremated.") And then there's this blog entry.
And as if I was not getting enough from my mother's side, my aunts had to bring up the fact that as the oldest grandson representing the third generation, I did not make my grandfather a great grandfather. Oooh...this is new!!!
I almost wanted to tell them that I am gay or that I only have one nut, therefore greatly reducing my sperm count. But I figured thëy wouldn't get it. Although, I did meet a nice girl there. I'm waiting for my cousin to hook us up and hope that she is not related to me.
And of course, my father had to do the encore reminding to get married before it's "too late". So, I proposed to Pam just now and asked her to shoot a couple of kids out for me.
I'm disappointed with myself for not taking the time to know my grandfather. We all say this about people we lose but then we take for them for granted when they are around. But I think life is fair process. My grandfather's passing serves as a reminder to not let the same missed opportunity happen with my parents. Life is short. Go start my record label. Visit my grandmother more often. Most importantly, have a good headshot of yourself for the tombstone. (And remember, it's not the camera that makes you look fat. It's the fat that makes you look fat.)
I'm sure we all know this. This is so "Cats In The Cradle." Three months later, this will be nothing but a memory and I'll be back in the rat race until someone I know and/or love dies. I must change.
By the way, blogged on the iPAQ.