The Reunion

A few weeks ago, we knew my grandfather was dying. So what did we do? Throw a party, naturally.

My grandfather was diagnosed with Parkinson's a few years ago and declined slowly but steadily until this fall. He could still get around, eat, sit in his chair and read the Clarion-Ledger, etc. until mid-September when he had a stroke or something similar and from then on was pretty much on his way out. My mom flew up from Florida and my uncle and grandmother (they've been divorced but friendly for 40+ years) came down from Memphis and they spent a month in Jackson helping my aunt care for him. The fact that they were able to do so and keep him in his own home was quite a blessing.

And there's nothing my grandfather loved more than a full house. He wasn't particularly gregarious or a party animal, but he just liked to have everyone there and to sit back and admire the family he'd built. His house was long the gathering-house for family parties, long, lazy weekend brunches and holiday festivities so, when the kids could see that he didn't have much longer, they called everyone, rallied the troops and asked everyone to come on over. We gather every year for Christmas anyway, so they just asked everyone to move up the plans and get together in October instead. My Dad and I flew up, people came down from Memphis, Vicksberg and Cordova, and stopped by from all over town. We cooked up a big old lunch, had probably 30 people over, and sat around visiting, and sat him in the wheelchair on the porch so he could see the little kids swinging and running around in the yard.

He was easily tired, so he spent the majority of his days in bed, but we took turns sitting with him as he called us in by twos and threes and talked with him. I think he made a lot of peace that day, and said to people what he felt he needed to in order to let go.

Sometimes he was coherent and sometimes he wasn't; sometimes he could feed himself and sometimes he couldn't turn over in bed. It was hard to see him in such discomfort, but I'll always be glad we all had that weekend together. Even while he was asleep, the family all sat around laughing, telling funny stories about his younger days and crying, watching old DVD slide shows.

We all left on Sunday (save for the kids) to go back to work, school, etc. in our hometowns and he was in the hands of hospice care by that night, in a coma by Tuesday and gone Wednesday. Whether it's a miracle that we all spent time with him in the nick of time or he felt able to let ago having tied up his loose ends I won't ever know. One thing that I do know, though, is that hospice was a Godsend during the whole ordeal. They provided medical support for him and instructions, preparation and emotional support for the family that proved invaluable. He was assigned an RN to oversee medical care, a CNA for coming every day to give him a bath, comb his hair, change his sheets, etc., a social worker to help the family with the paperwork, etc. and a chaplain for his counseling and for that of my mom and her siblings. The family could call any of them at any hour with questions and they were all very friendly. And, best of all, it was all 100% covered by Medicare. A lot of the family members chose to make a memorial donation out of gratitude, as do many families, but all of that is used to help those families whose care isn't covered and who can't make their payments in an effort to provide palliative care to all who need it regardless of financial circumstances.

Anyway, he wanted to be buried in his hometown of Bruce, MS about 2.5 hours into the sticks from Jackson, so everyone trekked on up there the next weekend. This was my first actual funeral as I've always just been to memorial services before. He didn't want any frills and made that explicitly clear to the family, but I was humbled and overwhelmed to see all the flowers that had been sent by friends and community members anyway. We were called a "unique" family a couple of times by the funeral's attendees because my grandfather had asked my grandmother and her husband both to speak at the funeral. But that's something I think isn't inappropriate, but makes my family special and awesome.

I'm pleased that he lived to see one last family reunion and, more than that, he got to experience the love of 3 devoted children, see two grandchildren get married and four go to college and get to know 3 great-grandchildren, one of which was named for him. Not a bad life, eh?

The Thing About Banjos

is that they're just so gosh-darn magical to me. I don't know what it is, but very little impresses me more than a band that can incorporate some bad-ass banjos runs really well.

I've been feeling particularly musically disenchanted and uninspired since The Duhks' January announcement that Tania was stepping out on her own and the group stopped touring and all but went AWOL. This time of year, as the weather changes, it's been particularly hard for me as it's just about this time last year that my folks and I were at MagFest having the time of our lives camping, feasting on gourmet vegan french toast and home brew and watching the Duhks perform all weekend.

...and then I picked up a Rolling Stone in the Jackson airport a few weeks ago. The feature story was an interview with Obama on how far we've come this term, after all (which I was under strict instructions to hide for the duration of our time in Mississippi). While I was flipping through the pages on the airplane I dog-eared all of the pages that had blurbs about artists I thought I'd be interested in and I made a mental note to look them up when I got home. And lo and behold, I actually did. As soon as I played the first 30-second clip of Mumford and Sons (their Rolling Stones description was four 20-something guys playing Brit-folk with amazing banjo, how could I resist?) on iTunes, I knew I wanted the whole album. The next morning my classes seemed to drag on for days and I counted down the moments of my chemistry lecture until I could burst free and take myself on over to Melbourne and buy the CD. I don't think I've been so excited in a long time as I was after popping in into the CD player in my car on the way home.

If you like folk, seriously, check it out. These guys are good. Slightly-deep (but not obnoxiously so), London-inspired acoustic tracks David Gray-style with banjo, strong bass drum and 3 to 4-part man-harmonies a la Greenland is Melting. I imagine fans of the Once soundtrack being big fans of this.

okay done gushing. just watch this video (this is their most popular song, but there are others equally as good on the Sigh No More alum) WARNING. They use the f-word. Don't play it around small children or those of delicate sensibilities.