TheBanyanTree: Into the Ground

[Margaret R. Kramer]

8/18/05
Love You Too Much!           I Love You Too Much!     I love You Too Much!  
I Love You Too Much!         I Love You Too Much!     I Love You Too Much! 
I Love You Too Much!         I Love You Too Much!     I Love You Too Much!

I Love You Too Much!         I Love You Too Much!     I Love You Too Much! 
I Love You Too Much!         I Love You Too Much!     I Love You Too Much!
I Love You Too Much!         I Love You Too Much!     I Love You Too Much 
I Love You Too Much!         I Love You Too Much!     I love You Too Much!  
I Love You Too Much!         I Love You Too Much!     I Love You Too Much! 
I Love You Too Much!         I Love You Too Much!     I Love You Too Much!

I Love You Too Much!         I Love You Too Much!     I Love You Too Much! 
I Love You Too Much!         I Love You Too Much!     I Love You Too Much!
I Love You Too Much!         I Love You Too Much!     I Love You Too Much 
   Hurry home so Me and George can show you HOW much! Everything went smooth
at Bob's house. When he pulled the rope to open the door he did not LOCK it
back up ---------------So it would not close. 
  Be sure to call me tonight I miss you so Much! 
Love you 
Ray and Geo.

Ray's memorial service was a year ago.  I can't quite remember the weather,
but I think it was similar to today's - kind of coolish, no sun.  We didn't
have as much snow on the ground then as we do now.

I remember getting up early, it was a Saturday, and beginning my household
chores.  I was still in a daze and I did things like a robot.  I did them,
because I always did chores on Saturday.  What else was I going to do?

I had all Ray's children and grandchildren at the house the night before.
Asher was with me, otherwise I would have been overwhelmed by them.  It was
OK, although a few of them were quite drunk.  Everyone was polite.

I gave them a small urn with some of Ray's ashes.  They played a tape for me
Ray recorded before his larynx was removed.  I had heard tapes of his voice
before, but it always amazes me to hear it and associate it with the person
I loved so much.  I was used to a gravelly voice which he projected from his
esophagus.  

It was almost as if he recorded it for this night, when his family was
together and sad.  He talked about how much he loved his family.  His voice
was quite raspy from the cancer, but he tried to sing.  I could feel Ray
listening to the tape with us.

Before Asher and Susan came over that Saturday afternoon a year ago, I got
the mail.  Ray's urn had been buried at Fort Snelling and they gave me the
grave number.  I didn't know they were going to bury him so quickly, but
that was OK.  I wasn't planning to display that cheap urn at the service.

I made picture boards and Ray's family made picture boards, so between us,
we captured Ray's life.  At first, we mingled together, but as the time for
service got closer, I began greeting people as they came in, and Ray's
family became more hostile.

Some of friends heard some men yelling in the back room, and Asher felt the
tension escalating as Ray's family learned the urn wasn't going to be
displayed.  "Where's the fuckin' urn," was one of the many comments made by
his children.

Asher suggested that I give his family the flag which would be given to me
by the VA.  Good idea.  Ray wasn't rah, rah military about his service in
the Army.  I would have donated the flag right back to the VA, as most
people do.

Asher was right.  The tension was relaxed when his children received the
flag.  Immediately after the service, his children had to race out to the
cemetery to see his grave.  Well, they didn't ask me, and I could have told
him where he was, as they weren't able to find him since the office wasn't
open.

We stayed in our separate groups at the luncheon, and I tried real hard not
to give them a piece of my mind.  It's amazing how funerals really do bring
out the worst emotions in people.  Several of Ray's children were drunk.  A
few of them wore jeans and sweatshirts.  They behaved like trailer trash.

Fast forward to the present and I maintain a cordial email relationship with
his children.  Ray would have been OK with that.  He knew how his family
was, he had no illusions about them, but he did love them.  And he would
have wanted us to get along.

I went out to the cemetery today.  The coins from last week were still
there, so I added a few more.  Pretty soon the ground will thaw out, and
I'll add some spring flowers for him.  Maybe I'll buy him a pack of Peeps
for Easter.