No punches thrown in her presence

At least nobody threw any punches. 
A death in the family is always difficult. It brings out the best in some families. Ours, well, not so much. The last of my three uncles died last week.  For me, it was sad but not unexpected. The last time I saw my Uncle Red he looked quite frail.
We don’t handle funerals very well in my family. When my youngest uncle, Norman was injured in a rodeo accident my Uncle Red came to break the news. He was disgusted to find my mother and grandmother fighting. I don’t know why he was surprised - they fought all the time and after my grandfather died it escalated into near constant warfare.
At my Uncle Norman’s funeral one of my aunts punched my mom. I don’t know why or if there was provocation but Mom still talks about it.
Norman was fun-loving and adventurous and thanks to the steer he was bulldogging, he was the first uncle to die.
Several years later my Uncle Don died of a massive heart attack. I was in  the middle of a divorce at the time. The viewing was uncomfortable because my soon-to-be-ex-husband was my aunt’s brother. I know what you’re thinking and you’re right - sometimes the family tree doesn’t branch. We were related by marriage only and now we’re not related at all.
At Don’s memorial my grandmother was very upset because hymns were a part of the service. I still remember her exclaiming in anguish, “My son is dead. I’m certainly not going to sing about it,” and my aunt telling her huffily that she didn’t have to.
No blows, but plenty of hurt feelings.
At my grandmother’s funeral my step-father would joyfully announce to anybody who would listen that “they are putting me in a home tomorrow.” That, coupled with that horrible pink housedress someone had provided for my grandmother were the highlights. My grandmother never wore pink in her life, let alone a housedress and there she was for all eternity, in a pink housedress. I still cringe when I think about it.
There were punches thrown at that funeral; mostly surreptitious ones aimed at me for giving my step-father hard candy - which he sucked on loudly.
It has been years since anyone else in my immediate family has died. We have all drifted apart. I found out that my remaining uncle, Red, had remarried after my aunt died. Or maybe before, I really don’t know. We came together for a reunion or two in the last few years.
I liked his new wife and since my cousin, Kim, came to the reunions with them I assumed that all was well. Somehow, Kim’s brother, Lee, whom I had never met,  had become the outcast of that family.
Then Red died. At the viewing I was surprised to learn Red had been cremated. We asked what was to be done with the remains and were told that the arrangements were uncertain. Kim had said that she almost missed the viewing because she hadn’t been sure of the date and time. I didn’t think anything of it because things are confusing in a time of grief.
At the church service the next day came more surprises. Red’s wife and family sat up front. Red’s children sat in the back of the church with the rest of us. The preacher talked how about how Leroy was a humble and modest man. I can  understand how they would call him by his given name instead of a nickname since his now snow-white hair no longer earned him the nickname Red. But humble and modest?
The Uncle I knew was anything but that. He was a big, loud, boisterous man with self-confidence oozing out every pore. He was full of life. Granted, he is dead now but humble and modest? That wasn’t the man I knew.
After the service I met his son for the first time. He said he had not been notified of the service until one of his friends told him. This was his father’s funeral. I don’t care how estranged you are, a boy needs to know all the arrangements when his father dies.
We did not attend the graveside service nor did we go to the gathering afterward. So there may have been blows after all. Two things are certain, I did not know the man they were talking about and I do not know if there were any punches thrown.[[In-content Ad]]