The Tiggs

By Vince Quick

At the beginning of my teen years, I thought I had seen and of course knew everything and just like everyone else I knew nothing. Now that I am an adult… you could pretty much say the same thing applies. I still know nothing.

One of the things that I found intriguing and somewhat confusing early on is the practices of celebrating ones life and death.

Celebrating ones life is easy enough to explain: We are born, family gathers in awe. We turn 1 year old and they are still in awe. Thus each turning year we celebrate. Eventually the awes cease, though. But each year we celebrate. Some with cake adorned with candles. And of course, each year we struggle to blow the candles free from their ignition, blowing breath and a fine mist all over the surface. I used to love watching my family fighting over the largest piece, but still we would celebrate in awe.

That is until you reach your 21^st birthday and are found on the bathroom floor, hugging the urinal. Awe at that time is usually quickly followed by the word "hell".

There is yet another celebratory awe that is spoken with much zeal. For those of us who are lucky enough we won’t be able to hear the room full of "awes" on our 100^th birthday. Don’t do that, it is just rude. It’s like saying how "life like" the person looks.

The celebration of death is something else all together, as you might expect. Where I grew up, just like some of you, the celebration of death is called a wake. A wake is a way for loved ones to say their final goodbye to the dearly departed. As sorrowful as this type of event should be, it still is a celebration, sort of.

The first "wake" I attended or even remember was for my mother’s boyfriend’s elderly aunt. I had never met the lady, but because we had to support our newly acquired extended family, I was made to dress in my best leisure suit and cringe at the sight of someone else’s love one lay there in a coffin. It was the first time I had ever felt that much discomfort. Matter of fact the only time I was ever more uncomfortable was my first run in with Mus-Havit.

The "wake" was performed at another loved ones residence. My family and I arrived at the home somewhat unnoticed and sat in the back, watching various members of this deceased woman file past the coffin for viewing. I was fascinated at the spectacle going on around me.

Each member of the family took their time in front of the coffin grieving and begging the Lord to take her next to His bosom. Then there were those members of her family that would either pass out, or plead with the Lord to take them instead. Those were the ones putting up a real fuss. Silently I hoped the Lord would take them up on their offer. They were making just too much damn noise.

Then all at once it made sense to me. It hit me like a bolt of lightning. How silly I was for not understanding. Certain members of the family believed that if they pleaded with the Lord, and made enough fuss that He would hear their cries and "wake" the woman from her eternal slumber, thus the name of the celebration held meaning.

"Lets all wake up the old lady. Yeah, that’s it. Sure why not?" Which is stupid, because as the Lord is my witness, if that old lady had sat up in that coffin, right then, the shock would have made the Undertaker a very wealthy man. And that "little girl" scream would have emerged from me once more.

From what I heard, well wishers attempted to assure the family that Aunt Ida was in a better place. I heard one say that it was God’s will. OK the woman lived to be 96 years old. I think Gods will did all right by her. I only hope to see that many years.

The one comment that stuck with me through the years though, "Aunt Ida now walks among the angels". That she would not suffer anymore. At the time, this whole spectacle was making as much sense to me as a dentist who was missing his teeth.

Later I asked Mama about this statement. She explained that a true believer believes in an afterlife. That if we live by Gods laws our souls would ascend to heaven for eternity. Those who don’t would go to hell, for an eternity of pain and suffering. That is as simple as I can explain it.

There was a third type that she thankfully waited to explain to me, and for good reason I think. They were the souls of individuals that have to atone for something that happened during their life. It could be for the sins of the father or because the time of the persons passing was not warranted or many, many atrocities committed by that one person.

Lost souls, ghost, spirits, whatever the name you may want to call them, I believe. They are forever a wake. They are unexplainable, but I believe. Call me what you will, I will forever believe.

I lived with my family for a while in a house that was beyond explanation. We were in awe of our surroundings and the things that occurred in that house.

As much as I would like to tell you that this story is straight out of my imagination, I cannot.

My life as I knew it was turned upside down. They were awake, they were in limbo, and they were the Tiggs.