First off, in case the Clayton County readers have been wondering why my byline has largely been missing since June 28, it’s because I was in New York for the funeral of my grandmother, Helen Mannix.

The funeral was nice. She would have liked the mass in Greenwich, Conn., the small burial at the family plot in Brooklyn, N.Y., and then the lunch afterward at a small restaurant at the south tip of the borough. Several of her nieces and nephews were there. Some of the women she grew up with in Brooklyn also showed up, and had some great stories about the “old neighborhood.”

In life, her instructions were always to bury her in Brooklyn, and then “have a nice party afterwards.”

She’d always quickly add, “I’m only sorry I can’t join you for it!” You see, the members of my family have always enjoyed a good party, which leads me to the main theme of this column.

At this point, however, I do feel an obligation to mention my grandmother’s late parents, Edward McGratty I and Helen Marie McGratty, as well as her beloved, deceased brothers — Edward McGratty II, Frank, Arthur, Gerald, Charlie and Donnie (who was the first to pass away, a casualty of World War II). My grandfather, Frank Mannix, passed away in 1976, a year before I was born.

The reason I mention them is because my grandmother began seeing them in her hospital room the night before she passed away. Whether you believe in the afterlife or not is your own matter to deal with, but my grandmother truly believed she was preparing for a party in her honor and seeing all of these people. She even mentioned that her father would come back later to escort her to the “celebration,” and then to see her mother.

It raises the question of what happens to us when we die. If we leave this world, and cross over into another, how does it happen? If our deceased loved ones are going to come for us, who will show up when we die?

One of my aunts overheard my grandmother “talking” to my grandfather at one point. We’re not sure what she and my grandfather were talking about, but she seemed happy. At one point, she mentioned that Sadie Gallagher, who was a baby nurse who cared for two generations of McGrattys (my grandmother’s and mother’s generations), had arrived for the party. Sadie died in 1974.

My aunts also saw my grandmother moving her feet up and down, like she was dancing. She always loved to dance, and there are several pictures of her dancing with my grandfather on various cruises throughout the years.

I arrived in New York for the funeral on Thursday, June 28, and a little over 24 hours later, I found out that my grand-aunt on my grandfather’s side has begun to see deceased friends as well. She’s still alive as of the time I wrote this column, but I have to wonder how much time she has left.

I just have to wonder what lies ahead in the future, beyond death. Will the party still be going on? I don’t plan on dying for a very long time, but when I do, will I finally meet all of the family members that I used to hear about in stories, but never met or don’t remember? What about those that I do remember, but haven’t seen in many years and still miss dearly?

As my cousin noted, there must be some party waiting for us when we die. There might as well be. It seems appropriate that they’d be getting down in the afterlife.

Curt Yeomans covers education for the Clayton News Daily. His column appears on Fridays.

The article above was found on Google and was published originally on The News-Daily