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[deckardcanine]

Two days ago, we went to the unveiling of my grandfather's grave. Yes, on Father's Day.

I was unaware that unveilings were ceremonial and surprised that this didn't happen sooner than nine months after the burial. Actually, we jumped the gun by about a month. Waiting is not exactly required in Judaism, but traditionally you wait at least 10 months in order to bring it close to the end of the prescribed mourning period. I would have thought to have it sooner just so there wouldn't be a renewal of sorrow near the end. But despite our predictions, I didn't notice anyone actually expressing sorrow. There must have been some big differences in response to the occasion, tho: clothing varied from ties and blazers to polo shirts.

The rabbi had a handsome South African accent, whose effect on the Hebrew I could not determine. He made a couple factual errors in his eulogy – my grandfather lost his father, not his mother, at an early age – and he neglected to call up one of the two children-in-law to help in the unveiling (they both went up anyway), but he chose his words and concepts well otherwise. I made a point to thank him afterward, which I probably would not have thought to do had he done a so-so job.

Unfortunately, the dual headstone of my grandparents was the dirtiest in sight. We started to clean it, but when we realized how far it was reclining, we decided to let the personnel deal with both problems.

The rabbi was impressed at the turnout, as was everyone else – a testament to my grandfather's goodness. The slight downside of this was that we would be in a house together for hours after the ceremony, and half the visitors were elderly, not my kind of company.

Fortunately, the evening gave me enough time to finish my Father's Day gift of sorts. Like on Mother's Day, I composed on a computer program called Play Music, which is simple in design but not easy to use. This time, instead of a soft tune that might qualify as soft rock, I aimed to imitate my dad's favorite bands, chiefly the Grateful Dead. This may sound strange in that I can't get the program to simulate anything but an acoustic piano, but the influence was recognizable when I presented it. He became quite curious how I did it. Not an easy thing to explain, as my dad hasn't taken music lessons and doesn't have the (deteriorating) sense of pitch that I do. Glad he enjoyed it enough for an encore.

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[-fairest.livejournal.com]

When my father died, his poor wife did not know what to do. Apparently, she had already outlived one husband and he was laid to rest beneath a dual headstone (the other side was intended for HER use.) The stone read "Beloved Husband"...well, since her own grave was already paid for and she was a widow AGAIN and money was tight, what else could she do? She lay my father's bones beside those of her first husband and had the stone changed. Added an 's'...true story.