The Funeral Fiasco

The Funeral Fiasco

Terry heard voices in the hallway and froze. His heart pounded as he realized he'd been caught. The whispering women stopped as they came in the room and stared at him with their mouths agape. How was he supposed to explain this! He'd just been caught red handed at a funeral going through the dead man's pockets. In the hallowed silence of the church, he could swear he heard Roy's ghostly laughter in his ear.


When Terry first married Darla, his new father-in-law Roy seemed a bit imposing. He was quiet and reserved and truth be told a bit intimidating. He kept to himself and while he listened to the conversation around him, he rarely joined in. Terry wasn't sure how Roy felt about him. Terry knew that in order to get his respect, he was going to have to earn it. And it would take time. Roy was not a man who let people in easily.

Roy was a child of the depression and knew he would have to work hard to provide for his young family. Roy and his wife Olga had moved away from their home and family in Logan, Utah to scratch out a living in the soil of Vale, Oregon. The land was stubborn and did not give in easily. But Roy was stubborn too, and after years of sweat and strife, he had a healthy crop, a herd of dairy cows, and 4 daughters to show for it. His days were busy and consisted of milking cows, irrigating crops, and endless hours in a tractor at harvest time. His daughters: Janice, Carolyn, Darla, and Sharon, were an animated lot with a flare toward the dramatic. His evenings were rarely uneventful. His only true rest was when he was able to sit in his favorite recliner and watch sports on his T.V. The music of his life was truly a symphony.

Although Terry, Darla, and their 5 daughters lived 8 hours away in Utah, and were only able to visit once or twice a year, Terry and Roy began to get to know each other and grew very close. While the children spent time with their cousins, and Darla with her mother and sisters, Terry often found himself sitting with Roy watching any sports related TV they could find. It was through this casual conversation that Terry began to understand Roy. Soon, they spent every visit in front of that TV, golfing, or playing marathon poker games through the night with Darla and her sisters.

Although Roy was usually a very undemonterative man, and was fairly reserved, Terry found there was a great sense of humor just beneath the surface. Those poker games were full of laughter; swapping jokes and retelling family anecdotes. Roy loved hearing new jokes but it was practical jokes seemed to get the biggest laugh. It was through these experiences, Terry became a son to Roy and their relationship was one of respect and acceptance.

But suddenly things changed for Roy. He had gotten older and his body began to protest his long hours of physical labor. He soon gave in to retirement. It did not suit him. There seemed to be a shift in his personality. After years of riding a tractor, he was relegated to riding his recliner all day. Slowly, a depression settled over him and jovial nature was replaced with somber resignation. Life seemed to have lost its luster. Roy no longer had a sense of purpose and began to feel isolated, irrelevant, and unimportant. In his small farming community social engagements were rare, and neighbors separated by miles. Roy had never been one to remain idle and he began to withdraw from life and retreat into his mind. His home, which had once been his joy, had become his prison. Despite the depression medication he was given, he was no longer the man he had once been. The symphony of life had become a flat monotone. And one day. when he could handle no more and grew tired of fighting his demons, Roy descended into the basement and ended his misery with one shot. It was all he needed.


It was with a heavy heart that Darla packed up their family and drove the 8 hours to Vale. Never had this drive been so long. Darla was still in shock and spent most of the time looking out the window. On the silent drive, Terry thought over this turn of events. Roy had done so much good in his life and yet now, you couldn't think of him without thinking about the way he died. His life now had a tragic footnote that would be forever linked to his name. Was this the legacy he would leave for his family? How could things have gone so badly?

On arrival Darla and her sisters were united in their sorrow. Her mother Olga, now in the first stages of alzheimers, was confused about what had happened and seemed not to absorb the monumental way her life had just changed. The funeral arrangements had already been made, the relatives had gathered, and all that was left was the quiet grief of his family.

During their long vigil, tales were told of Roy and his life was celebrated. All of his daughters took turns remembering their father and, even though it was a sad evening, Roy still lived in the memories of his family. Although they all knew about the crippling depression and sad end to his life, they focused on the good times. The Roy of days past. They wanted to remember the man he was, not the one he had become. They smiled through their tears recalling his favorite jokes and stories.


The morning of the funeral was alive with activity. The small farmhouse was full of women getting ready. With only one bathroom, there seemed to be no place to hide . Terry didn't have much to do except get dressed in the new suit he had bought just a month ago. This was not the place he had hoped to wear it. But, when he looked in the closet, it wasn't there. Did Darla forget to pack it in the frenzy of the moment? He looked again. Nope, not there. He went into the kitchen where Darla and her sister Sharon were sitting at the table.

"Did you pack my suit, dear? I can't seem to find it." he said.

"Of course I did. I hung it up last night. You probably just missed it. Go look again." Terry was known to overlook the small details and it wasn't impossible that he had looked right past it. He went back to the closet and he shook his head when he found the garment back with the suit in it. But, when he pulled down the zipper, he was shocked to find it wasn't his suit. It was Roy's. Terry was stunned. If he had Roy's suit, where was .... Oh no!

He ran into the kitchen in a panic.

"Darla, I have Roy's suit. Mine is missing!"

"What?! That can't be right." Darla got up from the table in disbelief and went to look for herself. She stared down at her father's suit sitting innocently on the bed. How had this happened? Sharon followed and when she saw it her face turned white.

"Mother and I took Dad's suit to the funeral home yesterday" she stammered. "Mother must have grabbed the first garment bag she saw. It didn't occur to us to check it."

"Well why didn't they call us and tell us it wasn't the right one?" Roy was 5'10 while Terry was 5'6". There was no way that suit could fit him. They couldn't have possibly put it on him could they? It would never fit. But they hadn't called either.

Roy was a simple man with simple tastes and had no use for fashion. He saw no reason for a man to worry about such frivolities. Terry's new suit was made in the current fashion and was the last thing Roy would ever wear.

"He'd hate having that suit on." Terry told Darla. "Roy wouldn't be caught dead in .... " He stopped cold when he realized what he had been about to say. Darla covered her mouth to hide the sudden smile that popped into existence. Today was not a day to laugh and composure must be maintained. But, sadly, it was true. He'd hate it.

In a borrowed suit, Terry and his family arrived a bit early to the viewing to see Roy lying in his casket peacefully. When they approached, they saw Roy had, in fact, been dressed in Terry's suit. As Terry stared down at Roy in this double breasted, pinstripe suit, he leaned toward Darla and whispered, "I guess he would be caught dead in this suit." He knew it was bold, but he couldn't resist. It would be between them after all and maybe she'd be able to smile. Staring down at him in this mal fitting suit, with the cuffs at least 3' too short for his wrists, the absurdity of the situation hit them. Terry struggled to hold back a snicker, but when he met Darla's eyes he saw she had the same reaction. They dared not show their mirth and left the room before letting the laughter bubble to the surface.

Terry and Darla, now struggling to hold back the sacreligious giggles that were threatening to let loose, took cover in an adjoining room. Holding it in only made it worse and their amusement refused to be silenced. The more they thought about it the funnier it became. It was almost too surreal. How could this have happened? Did they not notice the way it fit? What were they going to do? Should they request the suit be replaced by Roy's actual suit? Each question they asked, the more insane the situation became. This doesn't actually happen does it? They silently gave into their merriment. This was one of those stories that Roy would have loved. It seemed to make to mix-up all the more sweet. Now both Roy and Terry were in suits that didn't fit right. Once rapacious giggles had finally receeded they made their way back into the viewing.

Darla's sisters were seated in the back of the room and were silently weeping. Although they knew about the suit, the gravity of this solemn occasion was deeply felt. The suit seemed such a trifle in contrast with the tragic event. Terry immediately felt guilty and was easily able to tamp down any remaining lighthearted giggle. The sorrow and grief of this loss was tremendous. Roy had left behind him a hole in the lives of his family, and a the manner of his death would forever be linked to his name. Terry and Darla forgot their laughter, as they each sat in their own silence to remember him.

As the Organ music began Terry remembered how he had originally bought that suit to replace the 8 yr old, out of date, ill fitting one he had had for too long. He'd only worn it to church once. In fact, he was wearing it when they were called out of their church meeting by the Bishop to be told about Roy's death. They had left so quickly, he wasn't able to give the Bishop the tithing money had ready. He didn't remember until he got home, but thought he'd just pay it next.....wait. That money was still in the pocket of the suit Roy was wearing. Who knew what was going to happen from here. What if he did get buried in that suit. Well, there was nothing for it, he had to get that money back.

So here he was, going through his/Roy's suit looking for cash. Roy was LOVING this! The women, eyes wide, covered their shocked expressions and quickly left the room. Alone with Roy again, Terry found what he was looking for, and took one last look at his father in law. And he knew this was no coincidence. Roy had found a way to make his presence known.

Throughout the funeral, Terry listened as the story of Roy's life was read. Sitting here in the church, surrounded by Roy's progeny Terry knew that while tragic, Roy's manner of death was not the legacy he had left his family. Roy had played his last practical joke. And it was a doozie! He had found a way to say his final farewell as the man he truly was. Now, whenever Roy is remembered, it's not with a sad half-smile, but with the laughter of his funeral fiasco. His last gift to his family.



Authors Note: This is a true story. Terry and Darla are my parents and I was actually there at the funeral. To this day we still laugh at this incident whenever we remember my Grandfather.