Last evening (Wednesday evening), I went to some sort of pre-funeral funeral, for the sister (whom I did not know) of a friend. I had no idea exactly what it was to be; I "caught" the time and place, but not the description, of the event.
Such is the life of the deaf, where one oftentimes goes to events without in advance fully knowing what the event is.
It turned out, fortunately, to be a "rosary," and not a "wake."
Growing up in central Nebraska, "wake" was just a word in books and newspapers to me, with no particular meaning. We did not have "wakes" in the area, although apparently such were common among the ethnics in Omaha.
It wasn't until my maternal grandmother in northeastern Pennsylvania died, that I ever actually saw a "wake"--the first and only "wake" I ever attended.
I was appalled.
Here, someone dear to many had died, after many months of stress and anxiety (she was 89 years old), and there were tons of people coming to the house, to visit, to eat and drink, to carouse. The aunt who had taken care of my grandmother the last years of her life was worn out, dragged out, exhausted, tired, and here she was compelled to be a gracious hostess to scores of people who just sat around being gluttonous and drunk.
Awkwardly, being unfamiliar with the situation, I tried to help, but as I was a stranger to most there, I was an "invisible" bartender and caterer.
And this was before the funeral, even.
This was no way for decent and civilized people to act, I thought, and as mentioned, I have since refused to attend a "wake."
Damn, I'm glad I grew up in an area where there was no such thing, where people have more respect for the departed and family.
One wonders how--and most particularly why--"wakes" evolved, and exactly what their purpose is.
