So I go down to the funeral with my brother, his wife and my sister. I had decided to come back with my parents, in hindsight that may not have been such a good idea.
After the jw infomercial eulogy, where the elder forgot to mention that my grandmother had a sister which freaked my mother out because a lot of her aunt's children were there and this elder should have known better because he lived in the same town as the sister and was married to a cousin of the family , my mother had arranged, for those who want to go, a buffet. We got a pretty good turnout, about half were jws (most of the old folks) which kept the nonsense down. I sat with my siblings, all of whom are avid nonjws, and we had a nice time.
After the buffet was over I rode with my parents along with my mother's cousin to see a woman who my parents knew before my birth. They had all been in a congregation in Oakland and had lost track of each other when my parents moved away shortly after my birth. I was surrounded by jws. I was not comfortable. At least no one thought to ask what my status was though after a while it felt like they assumed I was a jw because of the tone of their conversation, a whole lot of "well you know this system of things won't last long" and "Armageddon will be here soon!". I was dying to pull out my knitting but I thought that would have been rude.
After we left there we went to see my grandmother's sister who missed the funeral because she had the flu. That visit was more enjoyable. Even though everyone in the house was a jw except me the conversation for the mostpart was about family, those dead and gone and the ones who were still alive.
When we left my aunt's house I was so glad I survived the day and I was more glad that I wasn't a jw.
RIP Sweet