It's me, Patsy from Pittsburgh
God replies: We've been waiting for you Patsy!
Well, I wouldn't come until I was God damn sure you didn't have any laws against smoking in bars.
God replies: This is Heaven Patsy, not hell.
That's why I came!!
God replies: I didn't think you came for the food. Your mother's cooking hasn't improved since the last time she cooked for you.
The only thing she knew how to do with a frying pan was cook up bacon with lard or hit me with it when I came home with a few too many....you get what I'm saying Lord?
God replies: No wonder she just ordered up a new frying pan!
Knock, knock, knockin' on Heaven's Door......
There's a party in heaven....it's been going on for two days.
Now, it's time for a little celebration here on Earth as well.
We're burying my Uncle Patsy today.
And, we're doing it in grand Irish style.
Exactly as he would want.
On this cold January morn, we will forgo the pomp and circumstance of
a hearse to carry him to his parish.
In Irish custom, his chosen ballbearers will carry his casket through the cold streets of his neighborhood to the altar of his beloved parish--where they will lay him at the feet of his beloved saviour and
surrender him to his eternal home.
We've got ourselves an Irish priest and special blessings from the Bishop.
We've got pews filled with saints and sinners and politicians and nuns and dignitaries and drunks and judges and nieces and loved ones and neighbors and friends and shop keepers and doctors and
barbers and lawyers and bartenders....
We've got special prayers and meaningful music and eulogies
and readings and marches.
And when we are done, we shall take his body to rest--on
the windy hill of Calvary.
We shall lay his body next to his precious parents, alongside his cherished sister-in-law--my mother.
And, then, after we say our final good byes to his earthly image,
we shall put aside our sadness, drown out our sorrows and
raise our voices in song.
An Irish wake
for a true Irish gentleman.
Now, it's time for a little celebration here on Earth as well.
We're burying my Uncle Patsy today.
And, we're doing it in grand Irish style.
Exactly as he would want.
On this cold January morn, we will forgo the pomp and circumstance of
a hearse to carry him to his parish.
In Irish custom, his chosen ballbearers will carry his casket through the cold streets of his neighborhood to the altar of his beloved parish--where they will lay him at the feet of his beloved saviour and
surrender him to his eternal home.
We've got ourselves an Irish priest and special blessings from the Bishop.
We've got pews filled with saints and sinners and politicians and nuns and dignitaries and drunks and judges and nieces and loved ones and neighbors and friends and shop keepers and doctors and
barbers and lawyers and bartenders....
We've got special prayers and meaningful music and eulogies
and readings and marches.
And when we are done, we shall take his body to rest--on
the windy hill of Calvary.
We shall lay his body next to his precious parents, alongside his cherished sister-in-law--my mother.
And, then, after we say our final good byes to his earthly image,
we shall put aside our sadness, drown out our sorrows and
raise our voices in song.
An Irish wake
for a true Irish gentleman.
I shall miss my Uncle Patsy all the days of my life.
3 comments:
Our thoughts and prayers are with you and your family. Hope your Dad is doing ok.
Jody, Frank and Boys
As you should!~
RIP uncle Patsy. Enjoy your party.
L
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