Funerals

I’ve been to a few of them in my lifetime. My grandfather on my mother’s side died when I was 15, and also his sister who preceded him in death a month earlier. My other great aunt died when I was 14 I believe. Either way, it’s been a good 8 years since I’ve been to a funeral. I remember not really feeling sad at the ones I attended in the past. I think I was too young for the capacity to understand what was actually going on.

This past Wednesday night at the viewing, my dad read me the letter that he had written for his father, and he could not make it to the end without sobbing. I told him that at the funeral, I would stand by his side and take over if he could not finish. I had never seen his face look so relieved.

When my dad and I stood up to go to the podium on the day of the funeral, I prepared myself for a difficult task: if he was not even able to make it through the first sentence, it was my duty to read this 9 page hand-written letter.

However, my dad made it to the end. He even made it through to the part that had been the catalyst to his tears the night before. I was so proud of him. But, then, he pulled out a poem he had written, and said the words, “I’m now going to ask Taylor to read a poem I’ve written”.

It was at this moment I realized the honor I had just been given. I was going to read these beautiful words aloud to my entire family, to comfort them in their time of need.

I read the poem loudly and slowly. My voice did not falter once. Pappy Goss deserved that.

I sat back down, and my aunt, who was seated beside me, reached over, grabbed my hand, and said, “You are so beautiful, Taylor. Thank you.”

My eyes welled up with tears. I was honored to have done this for my family, and for Pappy Goss.

I think I understand funerals a lot more now. Pappy Goss was relying on me to read for him with grace, poise, and confidence, honoring his legacy in our small town. My family soaked up the words and probably appreciated that they weren’t the ones having to do it, because they would have fallen apart. I’m glad I could serve them, and my grandfather, on his last day.

Rest in peace, Herbert.

 

This is So Messed Up

So I mentioned yesterday that my grandfather passed away. Yesterday was also Valentine’s Day.

I got home around 8:30 PM after driving back from my hometown where I spent the day with my family. My boyfriend had just recently moved out because we both decided we needed some time apart. However, he’s still my boyfriend. You would think he would have came over yesterday for Valentine’s Day, and especially after my grandfather just died, right?

Wrong.

I texted him asking him to come to my house and exchange our presents, and also mentioned that I was feeling really down. His response?

“I’m at the bar with Ray”

I thought…Ummmm, ok? So that means you can’t leave and come here?

And that’s exactly what it meant. He never came. Never even asked how my day went given a family member just passed away. I got angry with him and he claimed he didn’t see anything wrong with what he was doing.

I’m seriously so fucking appalled. A year and a half relationship and this is what I get….I’m disgusted with him.

There’s wasn’t even anything to  argue about or discuss after that. He had just given me a dozen different reasons to end that relationship. So I did.

These Crazy Past Few Days…

I have so much to write about since these past few days. Two events have taken place that really struck me, and that I made a memo to write about. I’ll start with the first one.

Number 1: I am a Christian, however, I admit that I am not the best. I don’t go to church, I don’t pray every night, but I do believe.

About two years back, I remember laying in my bed, absolutely miserable because I had just found out the guy I had been talking to had a girlfriend the entire four months we were hanging out. This was on top of everything else that had been going wrong for me lately. I had been contemplating suicide around this time, my depression was getting out of hand, and my anxiety was crippling on top of that. I was crying, sobbing, praying to God to give me strength to just move on, when I suddenly felt a rush. It was a rush of chills down my spine–this feeling took my breath away. I sat straight up and looked around me because I thought someone was there, but there was no one. It wasn’t a coldness I was feeling–it was exhilarating, hair-raising, absolutely magnificent. I remember running outside on my porch to get some air because I could not believe that that just happened. I thought to myself, “did I just feel God?” And in that moment, I believed with everything in me that I felt Him there. From this moment two years ago however, I have not felt that feeling since. Not even in my most despondent of days. Until last Thursday.

I was sitting in a local coffee shop called Commonplace, doing some work on my ipad. A guy sat behind me. I try not to do this, but I instantly judged him. He looked kind of like a jock, kind of like a d-bag if you ask me. I know I shouldn’t assume, but aren’t there just those people out there who have that look to them?? You see them and you’re like, “oh yeah I know what he likes to do in his free time” and yada yada ya. Anyways, two other guys ended up joining him at the table behind me, and I heard him ask them, “so guys, anything going on this week that you need to talk about? any worries or anxieties?” I immediately thought to myself, “wow…not something I expected to come out of his mouth. Definitely thought he was going to ask how many girls they hooked up with that weekend…” This kid then starts reading from the Bible. As I continue to listen, I realize that is was a bible study group. I felt like such an asshole for assuming that he was a jerk. I listened to him talk. He gave a great lesson.

I looked up from my ipad after awhile and saw two other groups sitting at the opposite end of the room. One group was in the back at a table and the other was at the front. I tuned in to the conversation at the back table. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Another Bible study group was going on! Different people, same thing bringing them together.

As if that wasn’t enough, can you guess what the third table was doing?

Bible study.

As soon as I realized that 3 separate groups of people who simultaneously happened to be around me at once were participating in a Bible study, I felt that rush. That breathtaking chill. Tears welled up in my eyes. Not of sadness, but of awe. It was a sign to me. I had been having a really bad week. My boyfriend moved out because he “needed a break”, I hadn’t been partaking in healthy lifestyle choices, and my mood was just crummy overall. But here I was, surrounded by people speaking the word of God, and here came that rush of emotion. It’s absolutely unexplainable. It’s wonder…marvel…and also completely overwhelming, obviously so because my eyes were welling up with tears. I immediately texted my mom to tell her what happened to me.

I wish I could explicitly define this feeling that came over me, but it’s just something that you have to experience to know–know that it is God, know that it is love–surrounding you, cradling you in warmth but also in a thrilling sensation of breathlessness.

I’m just glad I got to experience this amazing feeling again. There were signs all around me that I needed to get closer to God again, and He was right there with me.

Number 2: My grandfather passed away. I found out Saturday night but they believe he had been gone since Tuesday. He lives alone and my aunt hadn’t heard from him in awhile. She went to his house to check on him and found him. How awful for her.

My dad called me around 1:00 AM. I didn’t answer because I assumed he just wanted to talk. He gets up around midnight to go to work, so sometimes he will call me around this time to chat. I was tired so I ignored it. About twenty minutes later, my sister calls me. I started to panic a little because now I knew something was going on. I answered the phone to hear her crying. She said, “Taylor, Pappy Goss passed away. Dad just called me bawling”.

I didn’t know what to say. I was so mad at myself for not picking up the damn phone twenty minutes ago.

She told me what happened. She said that Dad told her to tell me not to call back; that he would talk to me tomorrow. After I hung up with my sister, I texted my dad and told him I’d be coming home.

I drove home today and my sister and I went along with him to attend the funeral arrangements. I think it really helped him having us there. Also, my dad is an avid gunman. He collects guns and likes to shoot. I gave him the honor later that day of letting him teach me how to shoot for the first time in my life. I think that really helped him, too. I loved seeing the excited look on his face when I asked him to teach me. And, somehow, I hit our target in the head on our first shot!

Anyways, here’s a little brief overview of the life of the Man, the Myth, the Legend, Herbert Goss.

• He wrote a book called Geese Still Fly, and used a fake name, Trebreh Ssog (Herbert Goss spelled backwards. Silly guy)
• He won “Best Groomed Male” in high school, and this makes me laugh to no end.
• He was a salesman almost all his life
• He enjoyed playing darts at the Legion
• This may not be the greatest piece to put in here…but it sure is the funniest. My Pappy Goss actually made national news with this gem of a story right here: Click
• My Pappy Goss worked his ass off till the day he died…he had 5 kids, one of them being my father. All of them turned out to be amazing human beings.
• Pappy Goss always called me his “sweetpea”
• Pappy Goss wants to be remembered as a Legend, and I’ll be damned if he’s not. Rest in peace, Pappy Goss. You’ll always be remembered.