March 9, 2009
Dear Grandpa,
I'm sorry this is late. I’ve been very busy lately. I don't have much to say, but I will tell you about the trip I took to Virginia recently. It was nice to leave St. Louis for a couple of days and be back home, but of course I didn't like the reason for going. While on this trip, I met some of the most annoying people in the world. Let me tell you about some of them.
First, there was this annoying guy at the airport. He sat down and he started talking to some woman he didn't even know. She didn't know what to say except “uh-huh.” He rambled about the importance of breakfast, and asked the woman if she had eaten. He went on to talk about what he ate for breakfast as if anybody in the airport would care. I pretended to be listening to my iPod, so he wouldn't talk to me.
Then I got up to get a snack for the flight. On my way back some guy in a suit almost walked into me. I was walking straight and he was coming at me from an angle. He should have waited for me. I was going the correct direction. I looked back at him and almost said something, but I didn't. It was early and I just wanted to relax before getting on the plane.
Next, as I sat beside my brother Michael, I told him what happened. Before Michael had a chance to respond, that weird, rambling dude across from us interrupted our conversation. He started with, “Well, what you don't realize...blah, blah, blah.” Like I should care about what he had to say. I don't know who this guy thought he was to just talk to people he didn't know as if he knew them. Michael and I just stared at him. We didn't know what to say, and eventually he went back to his newspaper. I should have told him to mind his own business.
Guess what? He didn't stop there. One of the stewardesses came back to pass out those red tags that you are supposed to fill out with your name and address if you are carrying luggage on the plane. The stewardess asked if I needed one and I told her I already had one. That same guy started talking again. Started lecturing me on why they have to ask that. I told him as sarcastically as I could, “Thank you so much.” That showed him. Weirdo.
The trip wasn't that good, unfortunately. You know I'm always a little nervous when I fly, even though I know it is much safer than driving—especially in St. Louis. I have this little trick whenever I get nervous. I recite the Greek alphabet. I say each letter in my mind and picture the shape. At first I go really fast. Alphabetagammadeltaepsilon, etc. Then as I start to calm down I go a little slower. Alpha, beta, gamma, delta, epsilon, etc. I finally become completely calm when I am able to go, alpha...beta...gamma...delta...epsilon...etc.
It didn't really work this time because someone in the seat diagonally from me kept chewing and popping gum loudly. I know they say that chewing gum helps to make your ears pop or whatever when there is the change in air pressure, but it was annoying the heck out of me. I couldn't calm down. I would be like alpha...beta... and then there would be the pop of gum. I looked in this person's direction but they weren't paying attention. They didn't care. I should have gone over and politely asked him to please not chew his gum so loudly, but the fasten seat belt sign was on. I couldn't drown out the chewing and popping because electronics weren't permitted yet. Finally, when we were able to use electronics, I pulled out my iPod as fast as I could and blasted my music so I could block out that annoying guy's popping. I don't understand why people are so inconsiderate.
I ran into someone you know at a memorial service. I don't remember his name but he had white hair and a white beard. I think he had a beard. I don't remember. I do remember he had one of those oxygen tanks that kept making that clicking sound every few seconds. I don't remember his face, but I remembered that clicking sound.
He didn't know Michael so he introduced himself and apologized for the loss. He then came up to me and said, “I know who you are.” I replied, “I'm sorry, but what is your name again.” He got a little offended and said I should know him from church. Right. The church I attended maybe six times in the summer of 2006. Yes, I remembered him. He then actually said, “If you get that hair out of your eyes you could see straight.” Then he went off talking to someone else with his rolling oxygen tank clicking and hissing away.
I couldn't believe he would say that to me at a memorial service. I almost went over to him and interrupted his nice little chat to tell him what a jerk he was to say that at a funeral where I was grieving the loss of a family member. How dare you Sir treat me and my family disrespectfully because I didn't recognize your sorry face and your little metal friend beside you. This is what I should have said, but I had more dignity than this man.
During the memorial service I saw something ironic. I had to read it twice and think about it before reacting. But sure enough it was ironic. I didn't know if it was a joke or sincere. It was a banner hanging behind the church's piano on the stage. The banner was of a blue sky, mountains, and an eagle flying with the words, “Let all who have breath praise the Lord.” I couldn't believe that this banner would be hanging near a deceased body at a memorial service. Was this supposed to be comforting to the family? I wasn't comforted about it. It pissed me off. I'm sure that this little country church with its little country preacher did not make the connection. That banner had probably been hanging there for a few months.
I pointed it out to Michael and he didn't get it at first. When I explained it to him he just shook his head. I looked around the small church to see if anyone else had noticed, but I guess I was the only one. I looked towards the doors and saw the little country preacher posted to usher people into the room. I thought about walking up to him and demanding he tear down that insulting banner with its useless scripture on it. I'm sorry, but I was not comforted by its words. I had spoken to this man earlier and asked if there were no tissues for all of the people crying. All he could say was, as he scratched his head, “I didn't think about that. There is toilet paper in the bathroom you could use.” Wonderful, let me go get a roll of toilet paper and plop it down for everyone to use. That would look very nice and respectable. Don't people think anymore about anything?
The bulletin for the memorial service was nice. Inside was the order of the service and a listing of all the family members. My own name was proudly there, but there were two names I didn't recognize. They were printed vertically on the folded edge of the bulletin's page. It was the bulletin's designers and a copyright. These designers were not our family. I don't know who they were, but I did not like that they sneaked their way into the bulletin. They did not belong there. How dare they want to claim credit for a simple bulletin used for a funeral? It was only a picture of a flower. I could do that. There was no artistry in that picture. There wasn't a telephone number on the card, but there was a publisher. I ought to look up their number on the web and personally thank “so and so” for making it on the bulletin with my family and my deceased relative. Congratulations! You're now part of the Jones clan. Morons.
You wouldn't believe what we saw on the way to the graveside—a waving and smiling Statue of Liberty. It was one of those stupid tax places that stations people out all day long to wave at cars. Most of the time I honk back or wave, but not this time. My brothers and I were in the third car of the funeral procession, so the Statue of Liberty had to have known what was going on. We had a two-car police escort with flashing lights and everything. We couldn't believe it.
I pointed her out to Brian and Michael and said, “What the hell is that!” I did not wave back. I flipped the smiling idiot off. She just looked at us and my middle finger and kept waving and smiling! I'll tell you this, there wasn't anybody posted on our way back to wave at cars. I don't understand how you could be that stupid. She had to have known what was going on. I almost went down to that tax place later to give those morons a piece of my mind, but we had other things going on to worry about. I should have called them. I would have given them hell.
We got back to St. Louis safely. There were no jabbering strangers and no gum poppers, but I didn't feel so good. I hadn't been feeling good before we left for the funeral. I don't know what was wrong but I felt a weirdness in my chest. It wasn't sharp or alarming, but it was there. It was a slight heaviness that was never uncomfortable or painful, but just present. I didn't think much of it because I had a plane to catch and a funeral to attend. I didn't notice it much during those few days in Virginia but it came back.
I noticed it when I got back to work. When I was sitting down it was there. When I was standing it was there. When I laid down at night it was there. It was everywhere, and it was starting to bug me. I asked everybody what they thought it was, but no one knew. I finally decided to call my doctor, but I didn't actually talk to my doctor. He was always too busy saving lives, so I talked to one of the doctor's nurses. All she told me was to go to the ER. Thanks a lot. Sorry to bother you.
I didn't go. I didn't think I needed it, but I changed my mind the next day. The heaviness was getting more pronounced and that weird feeling was becoming more sharp. I didn't think I was having a heart attack. My left arm wasn't hurting or anything, but I am a diabetic. I was scared, Grandpa. I have not been admitted to a hospital since I was born. I was shaking badly and I was cold. They kept trying to take blood from my arm and insert an IV, but my arms were too cold. I tried to calm down but nothing worked. I even tried my letter exercises I told you about, but they didn't work. Alphabetagammadeltaepislon alphabetagammadeltaepislon alphabetagammadeltaepislon. I couldn't calm down. The letters of the alphabet just passed through my mind like a strobe light. I couldn't slow down.
Eventually, everything was okay. They took a blood sample, put in the IV, and ran an EKG. My heart was completely fine. The doctors all agreed that it was probably anxiety. It was all the stress of the death and the funeral. I was fine but I needed to take a stress test and find ways of calming myself. Greek letters weren't working anymore.
Otherwise I'm doing good. I am staying busy and I am happy. School is going well and work is too. We are still planning the wedding, and that is really coming together well. We will be married in just a couple of months. We are both excited.
I'm sorry this is late, but I really didn't know what to write. Everyone else wrote something at the memorial service and put it in that little drawer in your coffin, but I couldn't do it. I didn't know what to write on the little piece of white paper. I wanted to put something more than I miss you and I love you. I didn't know that this was going to be part of the memorial service. I wasn't prepared. I was also scared. I don't like looking at dead bodies, especially my grandfather's. I was afraid to approach you and reach over to open the little drawer in your coffin. I couldn't do it.
What could I say? I felt bad. All I remember about your funeral are all the little things that bother me and the fact I can't calm myself down with letters anymore. I don't understand all of these things that irritate me. It upsets me that all I can take back from your funeral are all of these little annoying things that I can't get over. I don't know why people are so stupid. I don't know why I can't ignore it all. But I miss you and I love you.
Your grandson,
Billy Jr.
B.J. Jones is a Virginia/Tennessee native currently living in Dubuque, IA with his wife. Jones has an MFA in Writing from Lindenwood University in St. Charles, MO. He is the assistant poetry editor of Stymie: A Journal of Sport & Literature.
