AUNT DOROTHY aka BIG MAMA
Have you ever taken pictures at a wake? Neither have I.
Until I walked into my Aunt Dorothy's wake, bracing myself to stay strong for my uncle and my cousins, only to be greeted with a display of the beautiful clothing she wore when she strutted the Chicago runways.
My heart relaxed and the corners of my mouth grew into a smile as a palette of golden yellows, pinks, royal blues, ivory, and black shocked my senses. And of course, there was bling, feathers, fringe, and rhinestones. Attached to each piece was a picture of my aunt Dorothy posing glamorously, often with my uncle Emmett, to bring the outfit to life. It was a museum exhibit, similar to the David Bowie one at MoMA, a reflection of her contributions to the art of design and fashion.
Talk about a celebration of life.
I wonder if Bill and my kids will create the same ambience at my wake. They can stack my jeans in a pile next to my Adidas gym shoes. Perhaps string my T-shirts with clothes pins across the vestibule. Drape my seven-year-old robe and holey pajama bottoms across a settee. Ya know, capture my essence.
One thing is for sure: those who came to pay their respects to my Aunt Dorothy were there to celebrate her. Instead of rivers of tears, there were oceans of laughter. Instead of balled up Kleenex wads, there were silk handkerchiefs. Instead of sensible winter boots, there were diamond-studded heels. There were fire engine-red lipstick smooches smacked on cheeks, French perfume mists in the ladies room, and eyewear I've only seen on Al Pacino.
The gospel was 10 seconds in length. John 15:12. "This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you." To quote my cousin Kelly, her oldest daughter, "She was a custom gal. She needed a custom gospel." We were blessed to have my Uncle Quinn celebrate her mass, and when he finished the sentence and said, "The Gospel of the Lord" the congregation remained silent. We waited for the rest. But that was it.
Short but sweet. With a powerful message. Love one another.
This is the third funeral I have attended in six weeks. I've listened to Psalms, Proverbs, Ephesians, Ecclesiastes, and Gospels. I have gleaned as much as I can to cope, accept, to have faith, to sympathize, empathize. To grieve. I attended the dedication of the Saint John Fisher gymnasium to my nephew Conner, and was then on the receiving end of all this support and faith by our community.
And so it goes . . . life goes on . . . my Aunt Dorothy is reunited with her son Eddie and we are to take the lessons she taught us and celebrate. Pour one out for my Aunt, an appropriate cocktail that she would sip of vanilla vodka, Diet Coke and lime. Or maybe even apply some fake eyelashes to go to the grocery store and do a triple pivot in the produce aisle.
Celebrate life the way Big Mama did and leave the world a bit more glamorous than it was.
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