My Wild Family

First published November 20, 2017 on Facebook

So...Time for some contemplation.

Since it is the beginning of Thanksgiving week, the week of my Nana's birthday, the

death of my Step-Father Jack (the man who raised me), the time I found out about my

breast cancer, Thanksgiving has a lot of emotional significance for me.

Thanksgiving was also one of those times when the family went to take care of the family

graves and leave flowers.

My mom's family plot is in the cemetery of St. Fidelis catholic church in Flushing, NY - the

same cemetery as my father's parents (as discussed before). My great-grandparents,

Leopold (Leopold Wild - best name EVER!) and Katie - aka Pa and Mom Wild; Martin and

Sue - Great-Uncle and Great-Aunt Uncle Marty and Aunt Sue; Mike and Elsie - Grampy

and Nana (my maternal grandparents). Surname WILD. If I hadn't met my husband when I

did, I was prepared to change my maiden name (Reilly) to Wild because it is just such a

cool name.

You can see on the stone another name - Marie Iris Paulik - that's my mom with the surname of her third and last husband, Eddie.

There is a setup about this story. When I was in college, my stepfather Uncle Jack died the day after Thanksgiving. It was a difficult time. I remember my mom getting the phone call from the hospital as we were getting ready to go and visit him, and I remember her collapsing to the floor. My roommate was staying with us for the holiday, and she ended up babysitting my niece and nephew while we dealt with the death.

Uncle Jack was buried with his father, his Uncle Roy, and his beloved mother. But there was no room there for my mother. It really bothered her that she had no space ready for her in the future, and it REALLY bothered her to have Jack buried with his mother instead of finding a new place for the two of them together. Note - she still buried him there with his mom.

So the local community cemetery was building a brand new mausoleum where you could buy individual spaces in a large building. Mom decided to get herself a spot there (Hah! So there, Jack's mother!). And she decided that we all needed spots with her. Including future spouses that hadn't even been met yet. And a place for Mom's possible future spouse. 10 places in the new building - TEN. Never used.

My poor brother, as Executor of her estate, had to deal with those 10 spots. Now my mom had a hobby. That was buying and selling read estate. Not really flipping - just buying homes and business buildings, all for her own use, then selling them for a profit. She loved it. So the brother needs to sell the spots. Mom and I had discussed selling them on eBay, but the brother is smart and he calls the cemetery and asks if they will buy them back.

Which they do. For a LARGE profit. So the husband says that even in death, she was a making a killing (no pun intended!) in real estate.

So, Mom passed away four years ago from complications from Alzheimer's. Instead of a funeral mass, we kids gathered a few weeks before she passed, all together, and spent time with her.

One of the amazing moments was when my sisters and I started to sing the old family songs. Does your family have such thing? The brother was particularly surprised because he did not know the songs!, but mom actually sang along, all the words and all. Amazing.

Here are the songs:

First one I can't even give you, it's so offensive now a days. Just know that the words include "Mammy" and "Snowball"...

"Won't you come over to my house? Won't you come over and play? I have some playthings, a dolly or two. I live in the house cross the way. I'll buy you candy and sweet things. I'll put your hair in a curl. Won't you come over to my house and play that you're my little girl"

That was the Pedophile Song

"Playmate, come out and play with me, and bring your dollies three, climb up my apple tree. Slide down my rain barrel, climb up my cellar door, and we'll be jolly friends for evermore. Playmate, I cannot play with you, my dolly has the flu, boohoo boohoo boohoo. Ain't got no rain barrel, ain't got no cellar door. But we'll be jolly friends forevermore..."

Flu Epidemic Song

"Poor kitty! Poor kitty! My poor little kitty! I looked through the house all around. Looked under the table and out in the stable but nowhere could my kitty be found. Those bad little boys with their popguns and noise have frightened my kitty away... {note - if you look up this song, there are a large number of verses, all about how the little boys torture and kill the kittens - shudder}"

The PETA Song

But I digress...

So my mom died. We gather at the cemetery where she wanted to be buried, the catholic cemetery in Flushing, NY. There is a Deacon from St. Fidelis there because you have to have some kind of service to be interred there, so he will say some prayers and such. I started to talk with him, telling him about our family. And I said, see Mike and Elsie? They were marred on Christmas Day in St. Fidelis Church in 1929. And the Deacon said, no that's not possible. The catholic church doesn't allow weddings on Christmas Day. AHA! Father Ambrose did the service - he was a special friend of Grampy/Mike's - they werefishing buddies (translation, they would go out in the boat and drink, smoke cigars and fish), so he was willing the bend the rules for my grandparents. My Nana LOVED Christmas, and this was a gift from Grampy to her. The Deacon started GUSHING about The Sainted Father Ambrose and we went on together about him. My siblings were pretty shocked that I knew who Father Ambrose was and even some stories about him, and that this Deacon was the same!

Just to show how stories about stones can bring people together...

BUT this is not even the main story about my mom's burial! She had always said that she wanted to be buried with her family, but the vault was full. Somehow my sister convinced the cemetery that mom was so small, we could bury her in a child's coffin and just about slip her into the vault.

Tell me. Just how the hell did THAT conversation happen?? Does the cemetery supervisor just mention that the only coffin they could fit in is a child's?? Did my sister just bully him into it? Who first brought that up? SOMEBODY TELL ME? Because I think about it a lot and just can'tsee any other family pulling that off. LOL. I do appreciate that it happened because I wouldn't want mom haunting all of us for not following her wishes.

Phew.

Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving. I wish you all good health and happy family memories.