You call this a funeral?!

Let me preface this by a little back-story:

My mom and dad separated and divorced when I was I think 21 years old. I'm now 26. The divorce was something I wanted for them since I was a kid - I'll get to that story another time. But after the separation and subsequent divorce my dad went down to Delaware to live with my grandmother. I'm grateful that she took him in. But I guess a man's a man, with a man organ or whatever, so my dad ended up getting hooked up with this woman from Latvia. She happened to have 2 teenage sons. After a short courting period where they interacted via internet, and I assume phone, and some trips back and forth between the countries, my dad brought this woman and her 2 kids to Delaware and married her. I'd never met her before the funeral. I knew practically nothing about the kids, not even what ages they were. But I knew that my dad just bought a ready-made family (when he already had one of his own).

Back to the mockery of a funeral...

I knew my dad was going to be cremated. They decided to have the funeral in Delaware and have a little luncheon afterwards (that's normal). For this reason I didn't expect friends or co-workers to attend. So my husband, my mom, my sisters and my niece, we all take the 2 hour drive down from Philly. We get there to this little white chapel, I had no idea about the luncheon arrangements. Here I'm figuring we'll just follow whoever to whereever. So my husband and niece were in the car with me. We get out, my mom and sisters hadn't shown up yet. No sight of my grandparents. And this woman is walking through the parking lot. I had no idea who she was and she says to me "what's your name?" I say Tricia. She says "Michael's daughter..." and then starts boo-hooing and hugging me. Ok, now I know who this woman is. I wanted to shove her off of me but I tried to be polite.

Finally all of my people are there, and we go into the chapel. When you walk in there was this little area for coats and stuff, with a mantle. I saw tons of pictures of my dad with his new family, none of my sisters and I. There seemed to be no organization to the entire thing. We all file into the church, and there might've been like 7 or 8 pews to sit in, we had no idea where to sit, nobody told us where to sit - so there were some pews on the side, I figured that would be the best place for us to sit considering. Ya know how at funerals there's a sort of receiving line for the family? Yeah, I don't know, there wasn't one of those. The pastor gets up and starts giving his little speech - NO MENTION of my sisters and I - but lots of talk of my dad's new wife and her children.

Before we went down for the funeral, I was aware that my grandmom thought that it would be nice if his girls could come up with something nice to say about dad. I'll tell ya - when you grow up with a dad who seemed to not care, who didn't create good memories with you - it's really difficult to come up with something. I ended up mustering something up, apologizing that we didn't have a better relationship, things like that, nothing really glowing about him, but just that I was sad he was gone and that things weren't different. When the pastor asked if anybody had anything they'd like to say about my dad, nobody stood up. I didn't have the guts.

But then he pulls out this paper, a letter from my dad's 2 adopted sons - SUPPOSEDLY - and I say supposedly because it certainly didn't sound anything like 2 teenage boys would write about anybody. It went on and on about how my dad was such a great role model for them. How my dad took them to Six Flags and rode the roller coasters with them (that's my dad - always a man of adventure - when it suited him). How happy they were that they had an actual family now and how upset they were now that he was gone.

Meanwhile, the pastor is reading all of this CRAP and I happen to notice the alter - a framed photo of my dad and his new family. WHERE ARE THE PICTURES OF MY SISTERS AND I?!?!?! I start bawling out of PURE ANGER. I'm whispering to my mom and sisteres "do you see that?!" What a mockery. And just thinking about it and seeing it, brings uncontrollable tears to my eyes through the entire service.

Back to the pastor - he starts talking about this man - I say to my mom "who is he talking about?" It sounded nothing like my dad, the man who lived in the same house I grew up in for 20 years. There was not one speck of truth in what was said. I guess when someone leads a life the way my dad did, there's really nothing much to say. Apparently my grandmom wanted to make him sound like a good person, being as the majority of the little chapel was filled with her friends. My dad didn't have friends - he screwed over every friend he had. That's who my dad was, only ever looking out for himself.

Anyway, come to find out that the "luncheon" is being held in the little fellowship hall off in the parking lot of the chapel. Seriously? Your SON died, and this is how you honor him? Good life, or not so great life, your SON deserves better in his memory. But of course none of us were paying for the funeral - my grandmom was.

To the point - my sisters and I were beyond angered and upset over the fact that we were not even recognized as his children, nobody, save for my aunt, uncle and cousins, grandmom and pop, even said boo to us. We all packed into the cars and left without attending the "luncheon".