Today, we went to my husband’s uncle’s funeral. Nels Chris Nelson was 80 years old. Father of five, grandfather of 15 or so, and great-grandfather of 27. He was a hard worker (as most of the people who spoke out their memories emphasized). A big man, Nels had probably the biggest hands of any man I’d ever met! He was a kidder, too. First impressions put him as a stoic old man, stiff and reserved. Time spent with him showed him to be something much more.
As I listened to people talk nicely about Uncle Nels today, I smiled because it was mostly just a “nice church funeral,” you know? People talking about him “in heaven with Jesus, building stuff” or his “godly example,” things we say to bring comfort to those who have just had their hearts ripped out by a lost of someone they loved. And it’s what we do — I mean, we as humans feel like we have to help … do something … anything. It is our nature, plus it helps us not to think about the holes in our own heart death has caused.
Anyway, for me, the memories of Nels were different. I didn’t know him well … but the thing I remember about him was that he was one of the few people I’ve met (especially “religious” people) who were totally, unconditionally accepting of me. I have a tough time fitting into most places where people are expect to be responsible, mature and respectful. I’m a little too honest — trying to do the “right” thing, usually succeeding in overstepping my boundaries (set in unspoken ways by people who live by different constraints than I do). I’ve learned — am learning — how to keep my mouth shut in order to keep peace.
But with Nels … I didn’t have to be so guarded. I think he even enjoyed conversing with me, seeing me be blatantly honest, especially with people who might be too “religious” for their own good. My mother-in-law was the same way. She would chuckle occasionally, and just tell me how she loved me. I think that sometimes, people who spend their whole lives trying to be respectable actually enjoy a vicarious romp over the status quo sometime …
Anyway, I am one who thinks funerals don’t have to be socially acceptable, restrained events. I sat there and openenly cried when I was touched by the memories. I laughed freely, especially when what Nels did was somehow pontificated on by one of the “religious” types. And I enjoyed just being with a special, special part of my husband’s family … people not afraid to “tell it like it is,” as another 80 year old friend said over dinner.
So, this is my tribute to Uncle Nels. To his beautiful, weathered and mellowing wife, his five diverse and grieving children, and to the rest of the family, I say rejoice! All of our lives were made richer by knowing this strong, giving, REAL man.
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