Islands in the Stream
When I was 13, I locked myself in the bathroom to avoid going to my grandma's church.
My dad tried to talk me out of the bathroom but I just feigned some intestinal issues in order to escape my usual Sunday destination.
It was the last time anyone tried to make me go to church.
It's not that I didn't like the people or that I had a different opinion then theirs. I'm just a private person that doesn't believe in sharing whatever my faith may be with others.
And that didn't fly in this church.
But when it came down to finding someone to officiate by dad's services, it didn't seem right to just write a check for $175 and have the funeral home set it up.
That's why I asked Mr. Stream to do it.
Mr. Stream and his wife have been friends with my grandmother for 30+ years. He isn't a pastor or a priest but he's a senior member of my grandma's church and he knew my father. So, Number 2 and I went to his house the night before the services to talk a little bit about what we wanted.
My fear was that Mr. Stream might take the opportunity to make this service more about God and less about my dad.
On a scale of 1 to 10, I was hoping that we could get the Jesus-y factor to about a 3. Just enough to keep my grandma happy and not enough to start making me uncomfortable.
Mr. Stream and his wife live across from California State University, Long Beach. It's kind of funny to me that two people with such a strong Christian faith have the CSULB pyramid as part of their view.
We got there around dinner time but neither one of us was very hungry. Mr. Stream insisted that we sit down to eat while his wife worked on multiple courses in the kitchen.
Mr. Stream is a short, stocky fellow but looks younger than his actual age. I find out that he was originally from Puerto Rico and had lived in California for the last 40 years. He puts on his glasses and opens a small notebook.
Mrs. Stream brings us a "salad" - iceberg lettuce with a tomato cut in quarters. Number 2 and I do the exact same thing. We eat the lettuce and leave the tomatoes in the bowl.
We both hate tomatoes, just like our dad did.
Mr. Stream asks us a little bit about our dad. He mentions again that he had seen him on the Wednesday before he died. He also talks about getting ready to visit my grandparents at the river. He will be baptizing my uncle. And if my grandfather doesn't watch out, they are going to try to baptize him too.
I'm feeling the Jesus-y factor starting to rise.
Mrs. Stream brings out a plate of beans and rice and some sort of meat. I'm honestly not sure what it is and I'm afraid that I'm going to have to eat something that is not going to agree with me.
Mr. Stream continues to discuss what we'd like to share about our dad. And then, he surprises me by basically saying that he won't get all Jesus-y on me (of course, he didn't say it like that).
I finally exhale and feel better about our decision to have him officiate. I start to work on the plate in front of me and I get my second surprise in under 30 seconds.
This traditional Puerto Rican dinner is really good.
Dessert is right around the corner and it is peaches with Cool Whip.
We wrap up the meal and our conversation. I'm struck by the genuine kindness that Mr. and Mrs. Stream have shown us. It truly has come out of nowhere for me.
Mr. Stream walks us to the door and lets us know that he'll see us tomorrow.
Number 2 and I each go to our respective cars. He'll be over in the morning so we can drive to the funeral together.
VW
My dad tried to talk me out of the bathroom but I just feigned some intestinal issues in order to escape my usual Sunday destination.
It was the last time anyone tried to make me go to church.
It's not that I didn't like the people or that I had a different opinion then theirs. I'm just a private person that doesn't believe in sharing whatever my faith may be with others.
And that didn't fly in this church.
But when it came down to finding someone to officiate by dad's services, it didn't seem right to just write a check for $175 and have the funeral home set it up.
That's why I asked Mr. Stream to do it.
Mr. Stream and his wife have been friends with my grandmother for 30+ years. He isn't a pastor or a priest but he's a senior member of my grandma's church and he knew my father. So, Number 2 and I went to his house the night before the services to talk a little bit about what we wanted.
My fear was that Mr. Stream might take the opportunity to make this service more about God and less about my dad.
On a scale of 1 to 10, I was hoping that we could get the Jesus-y factor to about a 3. Just enough to keep my grandma happy and not enough to start making me uncomfortable.
Mr. Stream and his wife live across from California State University, Long Beach. It's kind of funny to me that two people with such a strong Christian faith have the CSULB pyramid as part of their view.
We got there around dinner time but neither one of us was very hungry. Mr. Stream insisted that we sit down to eat while his wife worked on multiple courses in the kitchen.
Mr. Stream is a short, stocky fellow but looks younger than his actual age. I find out that he was originally from Puerto Rico and had lived in California for the last 40 years. He puts on his glasses and opens a small notebook.
Mrs. Stream brings us a "salad" - iceberg lettuce with a tomato cut in quarters. Number 2 and I do the exact same thing. We eat the lettuce and leave the tomatoes in the bowl.
We both hate tomatoes, just like our dad did.
Mr. Stream asks us a little bit about our dad. He mentions again that he had seen him on the Wednesday before he died. He also talks about getting ready to visit my grandparents at the river. He will be baptizing my uncle. And if my grandfather doesn't watch out, they are going to try to baptize him too.
I'm feeling the Jesus-y factor starting to rise.
Mrs. Stream brings out a plate of beans and rice and some sort of meat. I'm honestly not sure what it is and I'm afraid that I'm going to have to eat something that is not going to agree with me.
Mr. Stream continues to discuss what we'd like to share about our dad. And then, he surprises me by basically saying that he won't get all Jesus-y on me (of course, he didn't say it like that).
I finally exhale and feel better about our decision to have him officiate. I start to work on the plate in front of me and I get my second surprise in under 30 seconds.
This traditional Puerto Rican dinner is really good.
Dessert is right around the corner and it is peaches with Cool Whip.
We wrap up the meal and our conversation. I'm struck by the genuine kindness that Mr. and Mrs. Stream have shown us. It truly has come out of nowhere for me.
Mr. Stream walks us to the door and lets us know that he'll see us tomorrow.
Number 2 and I each go to our respective cars. He'll be over in the morning so we can drive to the funeral together.
VW
posted by JVW at 9:11 PM
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