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My sister’s witty remark got a chuckle out of me. I fight back my laughter as I watch one of my aunts frantically trying to silence her phone. For the second time.
Gentle nudges and incessant silent giggling ensue as one cousin, seated on the other end of the pew, exchanged looks with our uncle. He leans in and ever so quietly he asks:
“That’s not grandma callin’, is it?!”
I want to burst into laughter, but I already knew we had to be getting stares from the rest of the congregation already. Being the grieving family and all.
We received word on Wednesday morning that my grandma, the matriarch of my large family, had passed away. Saturday afternoon we were all gathered together to celebrate her life (aka attend her funeral). As I grew older, I found that the funeral experience for Black families is very unique; even more so for my family. Ten years ago, we went through the same process with my grandfather. His health was slowly…
