Italo-American Funerals

[dgs49]

As I mentioned in a separate thread, my wife's uncle Gregory ("Gregorio") died last Wednesday - never woke up from an ill-advised bypass operation.

My wife's family has an interesting history of funerals. In the old country (Calabria, the tip of the Italian "boot"), when someone died, they were interred the following morning in the family mausoleum, without embalming. Ten years later, the ashes were gathered and put into a common repository, to make room for the next corpse.

When they first moved to the states, en masse, the first funeral was the patriarch who had come originally and been naturalized. Seeing that the traditions were much different here (funeral homes did not exist in their part of Italy), they simply went crazy. They held a week-long orgy of public and excessive grief, followed by a Mass and big ceremony at the gravesite, where several of his adult children feigned jumping into the grave after "Nonno,"their grief was so overwhelming. I was not "in" the family at that time, but I can only imagine that it was quite nauseating, all in all.

Subsequent funerals for the first few years sought to out-do the original, but even the crazy Italians realized that something had to give. These things were absolute torture to the families and close friends, all of whom felt like if it was at all possible, they must be there for the entire funeral, day in and day out.

So now, it's 50 years later and this is what we have: The Deceased dies. They wait a few days for any out-of-town family members to arrive, before starting the funeral home thing. The family goes to the funeral home alone, for the first viewing of the corpse. They weep and wail, and so forth.

Then there is two or three days of conventional viewing (2-4, 7-9, or whatever). The morning of the funeral Mass, everyone who has come to the funeral home comes back again before they close the casket and they say "Goodbye" once more to the deceased. Then the family goes into the room to say their Goodbyes once more. Then the casket is closed and they caravan to the Church. At the Mass, if the pastor permits, some of the grandkids will say a few words about the deceased. After Mass, another caravan to the cemetery.

Well, the cemeteries (at least the ones around here) have thankfully stopped having graveside services, and have erected chapels where the friends and family can AGAIN say their goodbyes to the deceased, and the friends and relatives can AGAIN give their condolences to the family members. This is followed by a wake, usually at a local restaurant, where people grab a bite, and before leaving they all AGAIN give their condolences to the family of the deceased.

My God, it's excruciating. It seems to take forever. Before it's over, you just want to open up the casket and get in there with him, just to make it all stop.

Death is a part of life. When an octogenarian kicks the bucket, it is NOT a tragedy, any more than cashing in your chips at a casino. I hate funerals.

Parenthetically, the priest gave the best eulogy I have ever heard. He had interviewed a couple family members a few days before the funeral and he weaved in references to the career, hobbies, home town, and personal quirks of the deceased. Mentioned him and his wife and a few family members, without a mistake. He said a few words of Italian (which the old timers loved), and brought in some life lessons from his own Italian Nonna. If this was a canned speech, it was amazing. Not many Catholic priests are that good.

[Scooter]

That's pretty much the way we have always done it, although around here visitation is now usually only one day, or perhaps two if a large number of people are expected. Whether or not there is a graveside service depends on whether someone was able to find on in-ground plot (of which few remain around here) or has had to purchase one of those cubbyholes in a mausoleum. I don't remember seeing anyone trying to jump into the grave, but once the greiving widow almost fell in when her heel got caught in those faux grass carpets they lay over the dirt pile. And we eat afterwards because we're Italians and it would be incredibly rude to have people come see you and not give them something to eat.

[dgs49]

Where is "here," Scoots?

The closest I've seen to actually jumping in the grave was Uncle Peppino,when he tried to lay down on the casket as it was being lowered into the hole.

Pepino lived about 200 yards from the deceased (his father), and hadn't seen him more than once or twice a year for the recent past. Too busy.

[Scooter]

Southern Ontario. Also lots of Italians from the South - Calabria, Sicily, etc.

[rubato]

Where is "here," Scoots?

The closest I've seen to actually jumping in the grave was Uncle Peppino,when he tried to lay down on the casket as it was being lowered into the hole.

Pepino lived about 200 yards from the deceased (his father), and hadn't seen him more than once or twice a year for the recent past. Too busy.

So when you kick the bucket we should just pull the chain and send you swirling clockwise around the bowl into the sewer?


Ok!

yrs,
rubato

[dgs49]

Scoots: There are a LOT of my wife's distant relatives who migrated to Toronto and its nearby towns. Originating in a little town called Maierato, Catanzaro (Calabria), their three destinations were Pittsburgh, Toronto, and Argentina.

Rube, I have left instructions that when I kick the bucket there should be a one-day viewing (unless I'm mangled in a motorcycle accident), then they are to cremate me and spread my ashes (illegally) in a local park.

Most importantly, I indend to be healthy and vibrant up to the very last, then die quickly.

The sound you hear is God laughing.

[dgs49]

Shocking sight.

The deceased had two great-grandchildren, ages 4 and 6. A decision was made not to tell them what was going on with Nonno.

On the last day of the funeral, two "Get Well" cards appeared in the casket, stating, "Get Well, Grandpa!"

Oy woy.