This conversation took place at work while Ineffably was flat on her back with her legs in the air... but it was all innocent, she was dying from back pains or something. And I honestly don't remember how we got on the topic, but I started telling her the sordid tell of my one-legged grandma (God rest her soul) who passed away some years ago while I was on my mission.
Let me preface the tale with this... I loved my grandma, she was the most amazing grandma who instilled in me my love for books and learning. She was also crazy. She was an alcoholic (in recovery I believe) and smoked like a chimney as well. Due to the smoking, drinking and adult-onset diabetes, she had her left leg amputated below the knee sometime in the 80's. I think the leg thing and diabetes put an end to her drinking days.
So, in early/mid 1997, she died from something related to a quadruple by-pass she'd had back in the 70's. Before I go any further, I need to introduce a few more members of my crazy family. First, there is Harry. Now Harry is not real name, but never once did I hear him referred to by his given name. He always went by a variation of his last name, but for story-telling purposes, we'll stick with Harry for now. Harry was my grandpa's sister's husband... so brother-in-law. Next we have a cousin of mine. His name is Shithead. Simple enough, it starts with the same letter as his real name, and he really is a shitty, shitty shithead. Those are the main characters in our tale, along with the recently deceased grandma.
Now, there are two tales here... we'll start with the one involving Harry and grandma. Harry would have been in his late to mid 60's at this time. Harry, his wife (grandpa's sister), grandma and grandpa were always very close. I remember hours and hours of playing cards and rehashing the old days and all. So, it was no surprise that Harry was asked to be one of the pall-bearers at grandma's funeral. And Harry, having lived a pretty hard life and being older, he had pretty bad knees. So, at the funeral, they asked Harry to be a pall-bearer along with some of the grandsons. The funeral director, had told the family that as a sign of respect, Harry would be placed at one of the front corners of the casket on the walk from the hearse to the grave. And the family, knowing the condition of Harry's knees, insisted that he be placed in the middle and Harry agreed and requested that this be done.
So, when they get to the cemetery, Mr. Funeral Director gets back on his horse about the whole respect issue and places Harry at the head of the casket on one of the corners. And so the go trudging off towards the grave. Now, as they carry the casket around the bottom of the grave and round the corner, Harry, being on the inside corner, well, yes, his knee gave out and he went down hard. And, but by the grace of God and a quick grab by grandma's former son-in-law (a.k.a. my dad), grandma would have taken an early trip six feet down in less than what you would consider an orderly and respectful fashion.
And yes, Harry was devastated and took a lot of consoling. But look at it this way, knowing grandma as I knew her, she would have been the one laughing the longest and the hardest, were she not squished up in the corner of the casket.
And now, story #2.
Shithead and grandma had always, always had, what could only be called, an extremely fucking contentious relationship. There were a lot of times, that I'm pretty sure they just out and out hated each other. Well, as I mentioned above, grandma only had one leg. And she had a fake leg, that always, always creeped Shithead out. Can't say that I blame him, but it was part of grandma and just really didn't bug me overall I guess.
So, after the funeral, it was decided that instead of burying the leg with grandma, they would donate the leg to whatever kind of organization reuses old fake legs. So, my aunt, Shithead's mom was the one who brought the leg back from the hospital after grandma had died. Well, not thinking of it, they sent Shithead out to the car to get something and when Shithead opened the trunk... there was grandma's leg... staring at him (like fake legs tend to do). Pretty sure Shithead shit himself that day.
Then, Shithead's wife or ex-wife, not sure what she was at that point in time, was working at the local hospital and was going to take the leg in and give it to whoever dealt with the recycled fake leg program. Well, she propped it up one night behind the door in her house to remind her to take it into work the next day. Now, Shithead is and was a big time drinker. Barely functioning fucked up alcoholic type guy, you know. So one night, he's drunk off his ass and comes stumbling into the house. And it's right at that time that grandma's fake leg fell out from behind the door. To this day, Shithead is still convinced that grandma's fake leg is still haunting his sorry ass!
There you have it folks. The story of crashing grandma's funeral and the haunted fake leg. I don't know if you'll find it all that funny, just reading it, but it seems to get a few laughs (thank you Ineffably)... and so there you have it. I should probably add like a moral to this story or something like... Be nice to your one-legged grandmas or they she will fucking haunt your ass for the rest of her life with her crooked peg leg or something...
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