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Dead and alive
Jan. 27th, 2022 08:33 amI dreamed that my uncle died. My cousin, who in the waking world lives something of a charmed Bohemian life in Massachusetts, retrieved my uncle from the senior care home in Italy where he is living and brought him back to the states to live with her. Then he passed away.
They had a giant funeral service for him in a church that resembled a sort of bubble emerging from a heavily wooded hillside. The interior looked something like a giant opera house, with tiered seating going up the walls high to the ceiling. The altar itself was on a raised platform situated beneath a giant round window that formed one side of the bubble, stained glass like a kaleidoscope. There were sundry quasi-famous figures milling around, along with many family members. The whole thing was very lavish, and I remembered that we had all given quite a bit of money to help her out.
Afterwards we for some reason wheeled my uncle's casket back to my cousin's house. She sat at the kitchen table and bemoaned his death, talking about all the good times. My uncle got up and out of the casket and nodded along wistfully, even though he was dead and mostly deaf and blind. Did no one else notice, I wondered, that he was...animated? My family continued their lament, even as my uncle sat, seemingly very much alive, right next to them.
Finally I had to say something. "Hey, it looks like Zio is still alive," I told them, but it took a few minutes to rouse their attention. My uncle, who is normally a snazzy dresser even in his senescence, had no shoes, so I fetched him a pair of swank brown ones that were about and put them on him. He began to hobble about the house, looking for something to eat.
So in the end it turned out that my uncle, despite the funeral and all, was still kicking. And my cousin, of course, never returned any of the money.
They had a giant funeral service for him in a church that resembled a sort of bubble emerging from a heavily wooded hillside. The interior looked something like a giant opera house, with tiered seating going up the walls high to the ceiling. The altar itself was on a raised platform situated beneath a giant round window that formed one side of the bubble, stained glass like a kaleidoscope. There were sundry quasi-famous figures milling around, along with many family members. The whole thing was very lavish, and I remembered that we had all given quite a bit of money to help her out.
Afterwards we for some reason wheeled my uncle's casket back to my cousin's house. She sat at the kitchen table and bemoaned his death, talking about all the good times. My uncle got up and out of the casket and nodded along wistfully, even though he was dead and mostly deaf and blind. Did no one else notice, I wondered, that he was...animated? My family continued their lament, even as my uncle sat, seemingly very much alive, right next to them.
Finally I had to say something. "Hey, it looks like Zio is still alive," I told them, but it took a few minutes to rouse their attention. My uncle, who is normally a snazzy dresser even in his senescence, had no shoes, so I fetched him a pair of swank brown ones that were about and put them on him. He began to hobble about the house, looking for something to eat.
So in the end it turned out that my uncle, despite the funeral and all, was still kicking. And my cousin, of course, never returned any of the money.
