pixiebelle

"You know, if Grandma had actually liked any of us, I think she’d be proud right about now.” I watched the band of hooligans before me. "She would definitely have been in the middle of the name-calling, shoe-throwing and the fist-fighting action if she were still alive.”

My sister really couldn’t deny it, so she stayed quiet.

"I bet she’s in Heaven right now watching us, a glass of sweet tea in one hand, her remote control in the other. And cursing the ever-loving daylights out of us.”

"Everyone, get in your cars and leave immediately!”

I have been thrown out of more than a few places in my life - bars, stores... But this was the first cemetery I’d ever been tossed out of.

"This one’s for you, Grandma.” I paid my last respects and did what the funeral director suggested. I got the hell out of there.

My grandma was a spitfire She spoke her mind freely and didn’t like many people. Heck, she really didn’t like her own kids. Her grandkids? Maybe a little bit. When they were sitting down and being quiet. She was a fan of soap operas and liked to stir up that kind of drama in her real life too. If there was a fight in the family, you better bet granny had a thing or two to do with it.

She managed to create her own blue-collar soap opera, casting herself as the family matriarch. And when she passed from this world, our family paid tribute to her in the only way they knew how: by being trashy.

I don’t know if it was her fault or not. I mean, if you watch enough Jerry Springer, you probably saw some of my cousins on the show a time or two. And no, I’m not kidding about that. Maybe they had watched too many talk shows and thought people really behaved that way. Perhaps it came from belonging to a family where most everyone was addicted to hardcore drugs and had a felony or two on their record. Who really knows?

This time, the drama centered on one person. My cousin Kolby. He was gay. It wasn’t a recent revelation or anything; he had come out years before. We all joked that we knew long before he did and it wasn’t an issue in the slightest. For some of us, anyway.

For those who had an issue though? It was a big issue.

All he wanted to do was be a pallbearer just like the other male grandkids. Most of us assumed he would be, since the family had just the right number of boys old enough to do the job.

My aunt Cindy had a big problem with that. Cindy was the baby in the family, and her siblings all made sure she felt special. She never lost that high and mighty feeling either.

She told us all loud and clear that being gay was a sin, and that he better not come near her dear mother’s casket with his filthy gay hands. Kolby was dating a man! He was a heathen! He didn't deserve an equal opportunity to pay his respects to the grandmother he loved dearly!

Aunt Cindy often neglected her kids in favor of doing drugs and had dabbled in underground prostitution. But hey, who’s keeping track of morality here? Oh that’s right, she was. Other people’s morality anyway.

At my grandmother’s funeral, the holier-than thou, fake Evangelicals (with a few real ones thrown in ) were standing in one corner with Aunt Cindy and her outrage. In the other, us semi-normal folks who didn’t see what the big deal was about Kolby being a pallbearer.

Even my soft-spoken sister couldn't take it anymore and threw her shoes at our cousin Stacey after listening to a tirade from her about the whole ordeal. She hurled her shoes and left to cool off before meeting at the graveside, staying away from anyone but her immediate family.

Then there was Aunt Bobbi. The peacemaker. A bright spot of calm amid the chaos. She could be heard telling both sides, "I love you. Don’t forget that we’re family and that we love each other no matter what.”

In the end, it was force and not calm words that won the argument. My mom pushed someone who wasn't even part of our family out of the way and pushed Kolby right where he belonged alongside the other male grandkids. All was right in the world once more.

After the graveside service, Aunt Cindy walked up behind Kolby and said,

“You’re going to burn in Hell for all eternity, I hope you know that!” Then spat in his face. He tried to walk away, but Cindy followed, "You may have won this time, but God will punish you for being gay some day. Just wait and see.” I was just about to step in when...

WHAM!

Cindy went down. Hair was flying. I heard bits and pieces - "Don’t you dare talk to my nephew like that, bitch!” and "You’re all going to Hell!”

I was sure that my mom had finally lost her temper. Or maybe Kolby’s mom, who was shy and reserved, but it would have been fitting for her to defend her son.

But no.

It was the normally mild-mannered Aunt Bobbi who attacked her baby sister out of nowhere. Their husbands pulled them apart as they spat and screamed at one another. I heard "whore”, "skank” and about a hundred other less-than-classy phrases I probably shouldn't repeat.

Our shining beacon of light had shattered and our family sank into an abyss of darkness. What I mean to say is, all hell broke loose and yes, we really did get kicked out of the cemetery.

It’s a shame Jerry Springer’s camera crew missed it. We could have ended up with our very own reality show and be famous right now. Has Jersey Shore ever seen someone get bitch-slapped at a funeral?

I didn’t think so.

(Names have been changed because my crazy aunts have learned how to use this thing called the internet. I'd hate for them to come across this and know it's about them. Though I guess that's still pretty obvious. Oh well. And for the record, my mom is the one same sibling in this entire family. I'm still not sure how that happened. This is my entry for therealljidol. I would highly recommend heading over there and checking out the other awesome entries this week! Thanks for reading!)

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