Jamaica

My Granny was a multi-talented person. However, one of the things about Gran that always stood out in my mind was that she was a professional mourner. I am not talking about the people who go to funerals and wail and bawl till thy kingdom come. I am referring to the fact that Granny liked attending Funerals of people she was acquainted with, even people that she didn't know very well.

In Jamaica, there is usually a saying that folks usually see distant relations only at Christenings, Weddings and Funerals. My Granny believed in celebrating a life after it had left this world. Next to the undertaker, she was one of the first people that were informed that someone had passed away. She would pray and fast for their souls, by asking God to forgive their sins and let them into the Kingdom of Heaven. Granny would tarry several nights before the burial, singing and praying all night. How do I know this? Well, as usual I was spending a few days with Granny, and it seemed as if a few church sisters passed away during that time.

When you're young, your thoughts are that an epidemic must have struck the land. Now that I'm older I realize, that's what people do as their bodies get old and tired. They slip off into the perennial sunset. As a youngster I paid no attention to all the talk about funerals etc. However it wasn't until Granny said, "Miss Mags, you are coming with me, you know that?"

I squirmed and wiggled in my chair, "Granny, must I? I don't even know these people."

"Never mind, pretend as if you're just going to a church mass."

Granny never believed in wearing black to funerals, she much preferred to wear white. She thought of herself as a ray of sunshine among doom and gloom. She would dress me up in a white dress and tie a mantilla on my head, and we would be off like two angels on a mission. Granny would carry a small bag with "grief relief" items. The bag included smelling salts, handkerchiefs, issues and icy mints.

You know sometimes when you go to funerals and the nearest and dearest are so distraught that they fall-out? Well, that's when Granny goes to the rescue. She always managed to have an ample supply of smelling salts on hand to revive and console the grief stricken.

People often appreciated having Granny around because she was realistic about the situation. Folks always say, "God knows best" and "They're in a better place." What better place?" Granny always said. "Did anyone ever come back and say, gee I'm having a grand time?" So with those thoughts in her mind, she managed to convey her condolences by talking and praying with the families and helped them to look forward to a brighter, more optimistic future without their loved one.

All the while I sat watching my Granny as she went into missionary mode. Sometimes, she would lift me up above the casket so I could pay my respects, and then I was allowed to play with the other children that attended the funeral.
Children in Jamaica have a way of "making light" out of any occasion. We would tease and chase each other about the "boogey man" in the closet, and "duppy man" out in the cane field. After all was said and done, we made each other laugh. We were able to turn a morose situation, into light hearted entertainment.

After the funeral had ended, for the next nine days Granny would carry food and prayer to the homes. She would sit and talk with the families for hours on end. Telling them to "Rejoice! Rejoice! They're with the Saviour now!" I remember once, she was praying and consoling for so long that I fell asleep standing up. It wasn't until I started snoring rather loudly that Granny decided to say her goodbyes and leave.

Strangely, she never really enjoyed seeing flowers at a funeral, Granny always said, "Give me my flowers now! When I die, I'm not going to know how pretty they are. I want to be able to smell and enjoy them while I have breath in my body!"

Granny always made perfect sense; there is something quite morbid about funeral arrangements. They lack the appeal of say, a "pick me up bouquet." Granny taught me the art of honoring life after it had departed this world. I think many peoples' lives were enriched because of her diligent funeral appearances.

She was so committed to making appearances at funerals that I recall one day quite clearly. There was a day when we were on our way downtown King Street for an appointment. On our way there, Granny ran into one of her church sisters and she must have told her that "Sister so and so" passed. Because the next thing I knew, Granny and I were running through the streets of Kingston trying to make the Funeral Mass at the church.

I said to her. "Granny we have no hats or mantillas for our head. We can't go!"

She said, "Don't worry just take the missal and cover your head, the Lord will understand."

It worked. It helped to alleviate our minds about appearing in the Lord's house without hats. But Granny didn't figure that we would both have arthritic joint pains after the event. I know I felt like a senior citizen in training. Anyway, once we got home and rubbed down with some limacol and bay rum, we were back to our "old" selves again.

From a child's perspective "paying respects" to the deceased was very tiresome and melancholy. So I decided to do my part and conduct a Novena, praying that there would not be another epidemic in the Country. Granny saw me praying day and night and asked me what my motivation was. I told her I was praying for everyone to have a long life so she wouldn't have to work so hard at comforting people. Granny hugged me and said, "Oh, the precious things that children say!"

This month's article is in memory of Norma Reese, Ken Strudwick and Lamont Ives.