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An Excerpt from... Rest in peace, now let's eatWeddings are a huge event in the Italian household. Right up there with weddings, however, are funerals specifically wakes. Although there is generally significantly less time to plan these, to the anguish of the family. There are 2 items of primary importance to Italians- 1. Having a respectable amount of people show up to their wake 2. Being certain that they will look better lying there in their casket than they have ever looked while alive.
Obviously, these objectives must be resolved prior to the actual event of your death. How many people show up may be directly proportionate to how many funerals you personally attended. Italian families will never forget every last attendee to their loved ones wake. Therefore, when the call comes that Maria's cousin Anthony's sister-in-law’s stepfather's brother Dominic died, it is time to get out the funeral garb, call the florist, order the arrangement, get in the car with the family, and head off to the wake. Which brings up several key issues. The first of which is funeral garb. It is required that every Italian have the appropriate clothing available at a moment’s notice. The uniform is as follows: for men a dark suit (preferably black,) white shirt, solid color tie (not a loud color,) black shoes, and black socks. For women it is a black dress, about knee length, no recognizable cleavage, and not too form fitting. However, there is a caveat here. If the death of the beloved left a widower who is considered a "good" catch…all restrictions are off. As the wake now becomes the Italian version of the reality TV series "the bachelor," only with a touch more reality. The pushup bras pop up and the necklines drop down. Not to mention the dresses worn are a size smaller and the length approximately a foot and a half shorter. There is also significantly more hugging, and accidental brushing of the breasts up against the grieving widower. This behavior is generally followed by frequent visit to the widowers home bearing Tupperware containers with various Italian home cooked meals, because after all, isn't the way to a man’s heart through his stomach.
The second key issue surrounding funerals are the flowers. The decision as to which arrangement is crucial. The arrangement must be large enough to show respect but should never overshadow those sent by any family member with a closer personal relationship with the deceased. Another key element is funeral etiquette. There exists specific key phrases, which must be uttered to the bereaved family- 1. I'm so sorry 2. He/she is in a better place 3. At least she/he is out of pain 4. He/she looks great. 5.He/she would want you to go on. Please note this statement is generally reserved for those wearing the pushup bras sporting excessive cleavage, micro mini skirts, and bearing those Italian food filled Tupperware containers.
All of the above should be said while grasping a tissue in one hand regularly raising it to your eyes and dabbing at the tears whether or not present in your eyes. (Hint-if bringing a Tupperware container with you, a few slices of raw onion included within the container gently rubbed onto your fingers before touching the tissue to your eyes will help provide sufficient tears.)
Of all of my Italian relatives, the most popular of all was Mary. No one and I mean no one was more welcome at wakes and funerals then Mary. What, you may wonder, made Mary so invaluable. This woman could cry on command. And we are not talking wimpy sobs. When this woman cried the entire neighborhood knew it. Mary's other talents included an inebriation monitor that all of the men in the family absolutely loved. Whenever Mary drank a little too much, articles of clothing would be systematically removed. The last family function I can recall found Mary floating down the steps into the dining room wearing only a barbeque apron. Needless to say, between her crying ability and her stripping ability, Mary was a hit regardless of the event she attended and as you can imagine few events occurred without Mary's presence.
The dearly departed also has some strict rules to which they must adhere. First and foremost the cause of death shall not be anything, which may inhibit the ability to use an open casket. Because short of a missing face, Italians refuse to have a closed casket. Primarily because there will always be those who refuse to admit, or accept the fact, that the dearly departed is truly departed. I think this is also one of the reasons that Italian families always have photographs of their loved ones set upon the casket. This allows family members, who live out of state or whom have been estranged, to visually compare the relative they knew with the individual at eternal rest in the casket.
The second rule to which the departed must adhere is the advance selection of an appropriate eternal rest ensemble. There is one crucial factor here and that is that this outfit must never have been previously worn. No self respecting Italian would ever be caught dead, literally, in a repeat eternal rest ensemble. Last but not least, the rules for the departed include not passing on a weekend as the preparation time will cause the wake and funeral to be midweek, which generally means a smaller wake turn out, which may cause attendees to assume you had few friends.
Getting back to the main event, the two to three day wake is then followed by the funeral where numerous black limousines follow the hearse, which is so loaded with flowers that the driver cannot see. This is due primarily to the fact that you cannot insult any of the family members by leaving their arrangement behind at the funeral home.
The graveside ceremony is generally pretty uneventful, except when the beloved's widow or widower attempts to throw himself or herself into the gravesite after their departed has been lowered into the ground.
Excessive tissues are now needed and then all family members return to the deceased's home, which has been prepared for the post funeral feast. And I mean feast. Consider 150 or more Italian women each preparing an 8-course dinner and trying to outdo each other. There is food, lots and lots of food. And drink, lots and lots of drink. Followed by someone doing something inappropriate, (in our case Mary is usually involved,) which then gives the family reason to gossip for the next few weeks or at least until the next gathering be it a wedding or funeral when someone else does something else inappropriate.
Perhaps one of the most humorous wakes I recently attended was for a friend who died unexpectedly at the tender age of 45. Dominic was a playboy. Married and divorced with two kids. He was the life of the party. A great guy who knew how to live life to the fullest. He took limos everywhere, and when he drove he always had the best parking spot at any of the haunts he regularly frequented. He was known by all of his adoring friends as "The Godfather," because when Dominic spoke everyone listened. By the age of 40 Dom had managed to work his way through just about every single, and some not so single, female at the local meeting spots. Some of these spots he had to stop frequenting because upon entrance he was guaranteed to be slapped by various women whom he had promised to call and never had, that his own safety was in deed in jeopardy. Lucky for Dom there was an ever growing number of new women whose acquaintance he would make, since age was never an issue, and let’s face it in a city the size of New York there was always a new crop of girls turning 18. Dom had the ultimate singles apartment complete with a bedroom whose main attraction was a wall full of various sizes and shapes of vibrators, which sat like a tool rack in a mechanics garage. Dominic had been known to brag that no woman ever left his apartment unsatisfied. Since, Dom was such a ladies man, a big part of his daily activity involved keeping his body in prime shape for his evening performances. Well unfortunately, as many Italians do, Dom was a heavy smoker and in earlier years had been known to partake of particular flour like substances applied directly through the nostrils. Well on one particular morning, after several cigarettes he proceeded to his treadmill to do his morning exercise. Unfortunately, the cigarettes and the past habit of imbibing on drugs, all caught up with him. He had a massive coronary and was found lying across his treadmill. Needless to say, we were all devastated. Dom was the life of the party and now the party ended so abruptly. I suppose more than a few of his female companions were also devastated at this news. As a result about twenty of the sexiest and most skimpily clad nubile young beauties showed up at the wake, all at precisely the same moment. Need I say more? The Saint Valentine’s Day Massacre was more laid back than this particular wake. It took several police and the entire funeral parlor staff and family to separate the women. I wanted to appease them by offering each one their choice from his tool rack, but at the moment I doubted if that would help. Somehow though I had the distinct feeling that Dominic was watching the scene feeling very full of himself and pounding his chest in extreme pride over the wonderful turn out of his female funeral groupies.#
Please email me at jhabert@heyimitalian.com to order my book or to share your stories about growing up Italian. |
