Some think that to believe in ghosts and spirits, you can not also believe in heaven. It's said that when we die we go to heaven if we lived good lives, and found our saviour. Some believe (such as my Nana) that when we pass away, our souls lay in slumber until God calls us home with the sounds of trumpets.
I saw my grandfather at his funeral. Andy spoke to my grandfather at his funeral. He was displeased with the preacher speaking at his funeral. He didn't care for the things he had to say, and he was very unhappy with my Aunt.
The day started very early here, as a matter of fact I never went to sleep the night before the funeral. I stayed up finsihing the video you have seen. We showered and dressed and took the kids to the babysitter. We went to breakfast, and then went to the church. As soon as my Nana saw me she ran up to me and hugged me, and then grabbed my hand and drug me to the casket. I have a very strong creepy factor about being near dead bodies, even when they are bodies of those I love. He didn't look like himself, and he didn't look natural at all. He was shriveled up and he was dead. He didn't remind me of the once strong and able man he was. His makeup wasn't bad at all, he looked better than some I have seen. My Nana spent a small fortune on the beautiful dark casket he was laid in, when the top was opened, it read "until we meet again" with two gold rings intertwined. They placed a folded flag at the top with a small picture of my little brother, Papa's only namesake, just under that. By his hands, at the back they had placed a lovely small flower arangement that my cousins had purchased for him. It had a single wide gold ribbon streaming down from it with one word...Papa. The services started, and we all wept, my Aunt, we will call her PJ from now on, made a total boob of herself. She went beyond the grieving daughter and sad person, and right into the usual PJ drama. She started by insisting on video taping the funeral, which my grandmother told her to do as she pleases. The pastor asked if everyone could scoot down a little so that all of his grandchildren could sit in the front pew, when it was her turn, she threw a fit. I stayed in the second pew as to not encourage the scene. Andy sat right next to me, and held me as I wept. He was amazing. The services finsished and it was time for the family to stay behind and say goodbye. The hardest thing I have seen my grandmother do was to say goodbye to her husband of 59 years and 9 months. We all wept for him, we all wished we could hear his voice just one more time, we held one another and we all walked away when we she asked us to. My grandmother, is the strongest woman I think I have ever met. She wanted to be the only one there when they closed the casket, and we begged her to let someone stay, someone to hold her, someone that was there just for her, and she said no. His children and grandchildren walked out of the church to a waiting group of loved ones with sad and gut wrenching looks on thier faces. They seemed to hurt for us, and cry harder as they saw our tears. I went staright to Andy, who had graciously given me the space and family time I had needed to grieve with them, and just hugged him. We stood off to the side and talked while everyone grouped around waiting for them to leave the church. My mother and PJ went to find the woman with the white dove. We waited while Nana said her goodbyes and emerged from the building, following a flag draped casket. She wept so hard while we were in there, and she pulled him up from his casket to hold him one more time. She begged God to let her see him again, it was by far one of the most painful moments of my life. I waited close by my mother as they brought him out and stopped at the sidewalk. They let my mom and PJ and Roy's wife share what was to come. Jennifer read the poem, and mom and PJ opened the white wicker heart shaped basket and realeased a beautiful white dove. We all watched as it flew away. When everything settled down, the paul bearers placed my Papa into the hearse. Everyone slowly got into thier vehicles, my Nana, mom, PJ, and her 2 daughters all got into the limo, and we followed him to his final resting place. Andy and I talked a little about the service, and the events that occured there. It was the first time he saw my Papa's spirit. Papa was at the front of the church by his body, and he was yelling. He was angry at the words that were being spoke by my grandmothers pastor, he was not in heaven and he was not at peace. He is trying to talk to his family and no one can hear him. He consoled my grandmother, and told her it was ok to cry, but to hurry up and get back to her life. He tried to slap PJ, his daughter, because she was so drugged up she fell into his casket. He noticed that Andy could hear him about half way through the service, when Andy snickered. I thought he was snickering at what the pastor had said, but it was Papa. Andy talked to Papa later in the day...and that I will share shortly. We all drove slowly across the town to the cemetary, and parked. We got out to be together and hold one another while we waited for the director to get everythign finished. The paulbearers removed papa from the hearse and set him on a lovely rolling rack. On each side of the walkway into the mosoleum there were members of the Honor Guard there to show respect and do a 21 gun salute to a veteran of the Korean war. My cousin Ryan is in the Air Force, he was dressed in his full dress uniform and saluted my Papa...it was beautiful. We all lined up holding hands behind papa's casket and followed him into the mosoleum, with the HG saluting the entire way, I wept with each step I took. The mosoleum is lined with marble on the floors and the walls, where the names of those resting are at. The ceiling is glass and up so high it makes you feel like you are looking right into heaven when you look up. We all sat in the chairs provided, and looked on at one another with heavy hearts. The remainder of the service took place here, we heard the guns, we heard the pastor, we watched as they folded his flag and listened and Ryan played his bugle in the background. The sound felt as though it was swarming around you and wrapped you up warmly. They gave my grandmother her flag and the casings from the 21 bullets they shot in his honor. We were all advised that the would be placing Papa in his crypt and those who wished to stay were welcome to do so. Andy had waitined behind for me from the time I walked with my family, until we walked away from his casket. I had decided to go to where they would put him in, but I didn't want to go all the way up there. From the background, I heard my little brother, 10 years old start to cry. He hadn't made a sound throughout the entire funeral. He sat quietly, and played his video game. He realized at that point that he was only going to be able to see Papa when he came to the cememtary with everyone. You could hear his pain echoing off the walls, and I couldn't stay back, I wanted to be with them. I wanted to see where he would be at. It is a beautiful place Nan chose to lay him to rest, it's sunny, and warm when you look at the stained glass windows. When we left to go to our cars, most to go back to the church to eat, and myself to go get the kids, it was quiet. I kept seeing my papa's face on every guy that walked by, later I learned, that it really was Papa. On our drive to the babysitters, we talked and I asked a million questions. Andy answered everything without getting annoyed or upset with me. He told me that I did infact see Papa, it's just that when you look back to see the second time the concious part of your mind is looking, and won't let the "unseen" come though. I see papa when I'm not looking for him. Papa told Andy he wasn't crossing over, he wasn't going to go until he had Nana with him. He doesn't want to do this alone. He wants her there, he has been following her around since she left the hospital a week ago when he died. He has tried to talk to her, but she can't hear him. Her beliefs won't allow her to think in this way. Papa is ok, I didn't think he was at first, after all he's yelling at pastors and trying to slap his daughter. He really is ok, but I do not believe he will truly rest peacefully until he knows that PJ is ok. This is his daughter, his first child, and she is a disaster. My mom and I have had a couple of conversations about Papa and Andy, my mother has always believed that our spirits don't always go away...sometimes they stay. My mother feels a little more at peace now knowing that Papa is ok, and he is waiting for Nana. I wondered what Papa looked like now...what did his spirit want for a body? He went back to his 40's, he looks like he did in his 40's and he's wearing combat boots, a white short sleeved dress shirt, and white slacks, which we have determined has to be something to do with my Nana. She always wears white slacks when the winter breaks and it's "ok" to wear white again. He is ok now...he does remember, and he is happy. We have decided to not share with Nana what we know, she's already in the place to go and join him, we aren't ready to let her go yet, and I don't think God's ready to take her. She is very healthy, and we all look forward to sharing the rest of her life with her. I am also looking forward to the day that Andy can see them together again and tell them how much we all love them.
