Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Living and dying in New Orleans

It's really a small town in many ways. Things happen and decisions are made based on personal connections. Today, we visited the funeral home for dad: Schoen's on Canal Street, which was established by the Schoen family in the 1800s, one of whose members was in my class in high school, and just a few blocks from the cemetery, which is convenient, and not far from my high school, whose current president is Father Tony McGinn, S.J., who was in my class there. In New Orleans, when you ask "Where did you go to school?" the question refers to your high school allegiance, not college. We Jesuit boys don't deign to speak to lesser mortals unless we absolutely must. Our funeral consultant was a DeLaSalle boy (about my age) and I had to bite my tongue to avoid asking him how he came to work at Schoen's with its Jesuit connections. (VBG! Some things are eternal.)

Anyway, it's a beautiful building and I'm happy with this choice.

We're going small and simple. No frippery. No frou-frou. No jazz band with second-line strut, although that would be entertaining.

More when there's more to say. Right now I'm gonna hang with dad and my siblings. We don't get together very often and this is really a pretty nice thing.

3 comments:

  1. Frank, my thoughts are with you and your Dad. I've always enjoyed your honest, no-holds descriptions of him as a man - in all his glory, warts and all. We'll be thinking of y'all.

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  2. I'm thinking of you, friend. Enjoy your time together as much as possible. It is comforting and somehow oddly joyous to be together as family during something like this.

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  3. If there's such a thing as a right way to do something like this, I think ya'll have found it. My heart is with you, Frank.

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