Snakeskin Journey

Lenore’s homemade coffin, built with love by Mark O’Donohue and lined with pleated muslin by me and four grandchildren:

We buried Lenore yesterday out at her beloved farm-turned-winery.  Back in the woods, just off the entrance drive, is a family cemetery.  Union County allows for such things.  The first family member put to rest there was Peter Dyer Russell.  He died in 1976 just a few weeks before my wedding to Michael.  He was to be the best man, but instead became the 1st order of business when family gathered for the wedding—we had his memorial service just before our rehearsal dinner.  The horrific pain of losing sweet Pete was slightly eased by the celebration of a new family joined.

After that came the paternal grandparents, the tiniest unborn child, and father Bob.  While there was discussion and hope of bringing Michael back to join the rest, we opted to bury him in California where he served his church.  And now Lenore is beside her husband.  She missed him sorely these past five years, often commenting on how she looked forward to being with him again.

The funeral was well attended in spite of the fact that due to age many of Lenore’s friends are now gone.  The heat index was triple digit and the humidity crushing, so the attendance was even more surprising.  One grand-daugther came from Austria with two small children in tow in order to say goodbye and be part of the gathering for her Grandmother Lenore.

Lenore was known for creating a stir as she entered a room, and in a strange turn of events she will be forever remembered for the flair with which she left this world.  At the point when she was being lowered into the ground, the coffin was accidentally and unceremoniously dropped.  Indeed, it fell onto its side and, because one brother had sniffed dismissively at me when I implored him to put the screws in the homemade coffin lid, the lid came loose.

Into the narrow grave (thank goodness it was narrow as this prevented the whole thing from opening completely) jumped son John Patrick and grandsons Justin and Gabe.  As we watched, they managed to right the box and climb out.  Dusting off, we paused a moment then continued with a closing prayer…with grand daughter Jenny calling out, “This gives new meaning to rolling over in the grave!”

While I am sure there were those who were shocked and perhaps offended, we family members quickly embraced the humor and drama with which Lenore took her final bow.  On to the reception, where loving stories and photos were shared (new stories created, new photos taken) and so the afternoon bled into the night.

The gathered cousins, oldest to youngest…all but two.  We missed you Jared and Sophia.

From bottom, oldest to youngest:  Rivanna with daughters Sol and Zayah, Megan Lenore, Nessa with son Gabe and daughter Alma, Justin, Robertino, Gabriel, Sarah, Jenny, Kate, Bekah, Zach, and John.