Hot Dish
by Jack Swenson
My wife talked to the church ladies. Sandwiches would be fine, they said, but a hot dish was expected, especially at that time of year.
After the funeral, we all trooped down to the church basement. I table hopped and talked to old family friends and relatives I hadn't seen in years. I thanked them all for coming. Really, they were brave to get on the roads. Lordy, it was cold! I confessed that I had grown soft from all those years of living in California. They laughed and said they didn't like snow and ice either.
My cousin from Fargo was there. She had gotten fat. I don't think I had met her husband before. He looked like he would have been more comfortable in bib overalls.
I said hello to Gladys, Walter's widow. Walter was my dad's best friend. They grew up together. My dad had died of a sudden heart attack some years before. Walter had recently died of a stroke.
My mother had died of a stroke, too, only she had lived for three years after the catastrophe took away her ability to walk, talk, and feed herself.
Her death was a blessing, I was told.
After lunch, as the ladies were cleaning up, I sat and talked with a relative that I had heard about but never met. He was a lively fellow. My wife and I sat talking to Bobby and his dour wife for some time. Millie was a good woman, Bobby said. A good Christian woman. Well, I said, you can't hold that against her. Bobby's wife looked like she had swallowed kerosene.
Afterwards, my wife scolded me for being rude. I said I didn't think I had anything to apologize for.
Before we left, I sat down and wrote out a check in my mother's name for a thousand dollars each to the nursing home and the church. I knew the home would appreciate it, and the church folks would think it should be more. I was right, too. I got a nice letter from the manager of the nursing home. I didn't hear from the church.
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Author's Note
Latest news from Lake Wobegon and points north.
I like this. However, If it were me, I'd work it so that
"My mother had died of a stroke, too, only she had lived for three years after the catastrophe took away her ability to walk, talk, and feed herself.
Her death was a blessing, I was told."
was at the end, but that's just me.
Good writing, strong voice, great story, well chosen details to illustrate characters and setting.
The part about the mother, having a stroke, living for three years unable to walk, talk, or feed herself and her eventual death being a blessing, hits close to home. For me, it highlights the rest of the story where ever it is placed in the text. At the end might very well be best, as Joshus suggested. Only you can say.
As Joshua suggested. How clumsy of me. I appoligize.
I might delete 'I was told.' Her death was a blessing.
Joshua suggests a possible ending, but I think there are two stories here, one inside of the other. The central kernel is the mother's death, but the larger frame is the church.
Personally, I love the ending here.
*
Bill, as usual, is right on the money. Thanks, Bill!
I like how the death is gathered inside the church while, I sense, the his feelings about the death are outside. Well done.
Such skillful assembling of sentences. Great emotions, too.
You da man, J. Swen!
*
"Well, I said, you can't hold that against her."
Perfect. I think the ending works as is. *
I love the double story thematically and agree that you do endings like no other, Jack! Or might I say, entire stories. Worlds within. Wow!
Fave.
Great stuff, Jack. I bow before you. *
I love a good poke at the church. Any church. We are not prejudiced.
fave
Awesome writing Jack. There can be humor and death. Perhaps that's why the Gypsies throw a bash at funerals.
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Jack , yet another story within a story. Agree with JLD. And Roberto, don't forget those great Irish wakes. *
"Her death was a blessing, I was told."
I disagree with John. For me, the above line is perfect. The "wisdom" of those requiring hot dishes. This piece is right on! Such a clear picture of that period after the shock of death, before the truth sets in, while people are still surrounding you.
The title says everything. The cultural admonitions within the unchartered territory of personal loss.
bravo *
Nice one, Jack. Love the voice and the humor.
Says a lot about the church - often so true. There's a chuckle in the seriousness of this one, Jack. Loved it! Def fav*
Wonderful. Just the right amount of distance in the narration. *
Story inside a story. Great ending, Jack. Good piece. You have a gift.
wow. some hot writing here while you manage to stay swenson cool. scandinavian heritage, i'd say.
Though I've never seen anybody swallowing kerosene, I sure loved that image. *