Rest In Pieces

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Went to a memorial mass on Sunday for my Dad and my Uncle Jim. I was seated next to my Aunt and when it was time to give the sign of peace I gave her a kiss on the cheek and in a tribute to both Dad and Uncle Jim I said:

"Peace On You!"

It struck my Aunt funny because she had not heard that in a few years and as she turned to my Mom for the sign of peace...she was in a pretty good giggle.

After the mass we talked about some of the rather unique things Dad had to say about God, church and the Bible stories.

"God worked a lot of miracles," Dad once said, "But the one that gets me is when Moses tied his ass to a tree and walked ten miles."

Dad swore that was a Bible story.

Yet Mom and Dad certainly introduced us to the church.

I still go as often as I can...but the one thing that I've learned in later years is to rid myself of the guilt.

The nuns had scared the crap out of us for a lot of years.

I still feel guilty...and I don't do a whole helluva' lot of sinning these days.

Yet before Mass was even over I laughed a little on my own.

Here's the story:

Dad was driving the car over the Golden Gate Bridge into San Francisco for work. It wasn't even 6 a.m. so we were both wiping sleep out of our eyes, knowing that we had a long day of work ahead.

The man on the radio was telling us about a murder in another part of the country.

A man, who was a drug dealer, had been strangled and then, in an effort to hide the body, his killers had chopped his body up and loaded this poor guy into 55-gallon drums.

We both heard the story and then turned to look at one another in a sort of stunned silence.

Suddenly, Dad made a sign of the cross.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"May he rest in pieces," he said.

And that was Dad.

The mass was a celebration of sorts.

As many family members who could showed up and then we all went for coffee.

My Aunt shared my "Peace On You," wish and I told the "Rest in Pieces" tale.

"You guys are too much," My Aunt said. "Rest in Pieces."

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