Rabid Fun

John Cowart's Daily Journal: A befuddled ordinary Christian looks for spiritual realities in day to day living.


Friday, May 20, 2005

Thoughts on a phone call in the night

My brother called last night from downstate to tell me that Aunt Ann is dying of cancer.

I’m not sure how to react.

Although my mother’s very large family of sisters and brothers were very close, for some reason I was always excluded from that group and since the day of her funeral in 1986 I have not received so much as a Christmas card or a phone call from any of them.

I’ve always suspected that they were all afraid that I’d be a pest and ask one of them for help because back then, in ’86, we were impoverished living in HUD housing on Food Stamps

In fact, because one HUD unit was closing, we had to move the day after Mama’s funeral and we had no place to move to! We’d located a new unit but HUD inspectors refused to pass it and it looked as though our furniture would be piled at the curb while Ginny & I and the four kids would be living in our car.

To find a place to live, the morning of Mama’s funeral I went to Congressman Charles Bennett’s office and asked him to intercede with the HUD officials who were involved in an internal office power struggle which kept them from qualifying the house I’d found.

Oddly enough, Congressman Bennett and I had been phone friends for a long time.

He’d once read an article I wrote about Jacksonville history and called me to talk about it. He was also interested in local history and we often talked about Jacksonville history on Sunday afternoons. Of course, he had no idea of my financial statis, or I of his, because it just never came up when we talked.

Anyhow, when I went to his office, he called the HUD officials and miraculously HUD inspectors found that the house suddenly qualified.

So I went to Mama’s funeral knowing that we’d be able to move the very next day.

Incidentally, over the years the Lord has prospered us so we now own our own home, garden and swimming pool. So we landed on our feet though it was tough for a while there.

But at the time of the funeral the extended family acted so afraid that I might ask one of them for help of some kind that they practically shunned me.

I understand that they took up a collection to give to one of the aunts to help with funeral expenses but I’m not sure if they did or not. I made all the funeral arrangements and paid all funeral expenses from a $ 1,500 burial policy Mama had taken out.

Several years before her death my mother had me drive her to an attorney’s office where she made out a will stipulating that on her death I was to be responsible for all her bills and expenses, and that her house and all her belongings without exception were to go to her sister, Clara.

When she died, I did ask Clara for my two bookcases which my father had given me as a birthday present when I turned 14. Aunt Clara was not too happy that I wanted my bookcases; she felt that since they were still in Mama’s house, they also should also be her’s. But she did let me have them.

After I paid all the expenses, the funeral home refunded me $32; as far as I know, no one else ever spent a penny on the funeral and I never heard a word from any of them again.

Oddly enough, Daddy’s cousin kept in touch with me for years until the time of her death.

Anyhow, I feel no animosity toward any of these folks. They are just not part of my life.

I wish them well. But their lives and affairs have not touched on mine for 20 years and the death of one touches me no more than the death of any other stranger.

Yet, my brother, who reestablished contact with me about ten years ago after a silent absence of about ten years seems to think I ought to be broken up or something over Aunt Ann’s impending death.

I pray she has an easy passage and finds eternal peace.
But I wonder why anyone bothered to notify me.

I can’t imagine that Ginny would call any of them when I die. None have shown the slightest bit of interest while I was alive. Yes, they are extended family but they do not form any part of our life, nor I of theirs.

So, I do not know how or react or what my duty is under the circumstances.

For whom the bell tolls?
I think it's just another damn bell.

Posted on Friday 20 of May, 2005 [04:55:47]


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posted by John Cowart @ 5:37 PM

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