Da Parish

I went to Sandy’s funeral yesterday. It was heartbreaking. I had to see a lot of people who I used to work with and would like to have never seen again. I saw Sandy’s abusive ex-husband. I didn’t see most of the people who she worked with for over ten years. They must have been too busy to make it out of the office. I endured a memorial service that was less about Sandy than about her mother’s faith in her god and evangelistic prose. I cried before the service as her pre-teen daughter said her final goodbyes wracked with grief. I cried when Sandy’s boyfriend got up and read a poem that he had written about her. I cried at the grave site as I said “good-bye” and told her that she finally got me out to Chalmette.

A shrimp po-boy made for a good lunch in her honor. A french-fry po-boy would have been more fitting but I’m not sure that I’ll ever convince myself that it’s a good idea to eat a loaf of French bread filled with french-fries and gravy.