Martha Ann Miller Wynn

Martha Ann Miller Wynn - 16 March 1943/21 April 2015

This morning, I got up tired from the 9 days before... my last momma was dead, and I feared for daddy - feared for Martha's poor funeral... My fears were useless, it turned out. While we had family (his, hers, ours, and somebody else's) to help with our parents' and grandparents' funerals, my dad had her brothers and sister to help. We were left three days to get 7 kids, 3 spouses, 2 significant others, 15 grand-kids,  and 4 great-grandchildren to the funeral. Of the kids, 5 made it; 3 of the spouses/significant others came; only 1 grandchild and none of the great-grandchildren were there. According to mere math, we had 9 descendants at the funeral.

My dad was already there! (*happy gasp*) He was the only one there, but my sister Cathie, my daughter Jody, my hubbit Rocky and I soon joined him.

I got plenty of time to talk to Martha at Meadowview Rehab the previous Friday. Once, I thought she was a-sleepin, and took out my Rosary. It was like an echo of John Westerfield's from the previous summer: Martha's voice tremulously asked... "Pray for me, René... Pray for your father and Shane... Pray the Rosary..." So, I did. I prayed the Rosary all morning long, and into the afternoon. With her and John's voices echoing in the background, I prayed the whole week.

Saturday morn, with only us there (not all, but 5 there), I prayed the Rosary over Martha's emaciated body, that the funeral home had done marvelous work with, and Linda Miller had bought her a beautiful outfit for. My hubby wheeled me out after I put the white beads (that were blessed with the Pope's wishes for more evangelization of families and Divine Mercy) in her curled up right hand.

Someone put a small pamphlet in my hand - listing her, her husband (Dad), her son, her brothers, her sister and husband, her sister-in-law, nieces, nephews... we six step-children and 3 spouses, 2 significant others, 15 grand-kids,  and 4 great-grandchildren weren't mentioned at all... I mentally shrugged - we were there, as much as possible... even Karen and April sent their wishes and prayers, because Martha was our step-mother.

With time, some more people showed up: Jimmie Miller, Bernice Underwood, Linda Miller, more and more... Bills, Bobs, Karens, Marys, Lindas, her nieces and nephews, her friends from childhood and church, Rev Bill Crider... I cried my thanks to God, for showing me and daddy her family and friends...

Frank was represented by his wife, Tammy, who both loved and respected Martha. Cathie was there, as were Charlie and Tegwin. Paul and Sylvia sent their prayers; Arianne was there, without Connor (she said "He would be hyperactive!") tugging at her shirt tail.

Her grandchildren weren't all there, but they all missed Martha. Her great-grandchildren weren't there. Cathie's Brittany and Joshua, and his children Breonna and Roman... Paul's Eric, Chris, Tim and Maddie... Charlie's Ariel... Arianne's Cody, Colton, Hayden, and Connor... my own Jena and Julie, with Julie's son Robbie... my Robby, whose funeral Martha had come to...

With all my heart, I thank God for Martha's presence in my life, and in daddy's life.

From their wedding on 10 May 1987 til 4 days before her death...A long time in this world.

Leaving in a line of cars, headlights on, for the graveyard is a time-honored standard of all our funerals. The hearse leads, husband follows the hearse, kids and step-children follow Daddy, brothers and sisters follow the last car with kids, and everybody else follows last. That's what we expected. That's not what happened.

We have always had someone on the police force, and the funeral procession would be accompanied by their fellow brothers. We had no knowledge that there would be charges for the police to stand guard at each intersection for the funeral goers to follow the hearse in an orderly manner, without interruptions, that wouldn't leave out-of-towners looking alarmingly for the grave site. Ah well... you live and - with daddy following us - you learn. It took us 10 minutes to hunt the cemetery down, and 2 more to find the grave site.

My sisters followed last - Cathie, Arianne and Tammy. They didn't begin until Daddy got there.

At the end of funerals, we would gather at the Church where the loved one was buried, or if a funeral home was used, at the home of the surviving wife or one of the kids or the parents; feeding loved ones is the last chore of the heaven-gone before we all separate, and the first chore of those left behind. Being in Minden, we had already decided to gather at a restaurant in Minden, with credit cards ready for those with no money. Imagine our relief at Rev Bill Crider's announcement that "the family" welcomed any and all to the home of Jimmie and Linda for a repast.

We all were a little wore out by the time we got to Jimmie and Linda's home. We went inside, and found a beautiful home with a beautiful den set up with chairs. That's as far as I could go. I wended my way around to the chair in the corner - and found an empty cross of Jesus on the small table between myself and Rocky.

Rocky left to get me a plate, my brother Charlie and Tegwin left shortly afterwards to eat at table, and I was left with Jesus. "Why, Jesus, are we not allowed to give Martha the funeral she wanted?"

He answered, "The funeral was attended by you. That, and the Rosaries, is all she wanted." Comforted from all complaints of mine, I felt ready to eat, and be for my family what they have been through the years for me - the symbol of the Rock I placed myself on.

Having eaten (ham and brisket, baked beans and green bean casserole, corn and squash, sweet potatoes and dinner rolls) and regained some of my strength, we moved from the deserted den to the family-placed dinner table for more tea, some good, strong coffee, and some pecan pie and pound cake with fruit. We talked, shared about us and about the ones missing, shared tears and tales from the years, before we got up and went outside for our smoking members of the family. We smoked in honour of Martha; we smoked in honour of Jesus; we smoked in honour of our Indian-forbears; and last, we smoked in honour of those forgone, but not not forgotten.

All the food was wrapped up, and placed  in my dad's car, after getting him to unlock it. We sent Dad to the newspaper for some copies of Minden Press-Herald with her funeral obit inside. We gathered up ourselves, and each greeted at least the host and hostess with a hug and a handshake, thanking them profusely for dinner, and for giving the best funeral to Martha as possible.

We left to go to my own home, where we had some more come by, and we said "Good-bye" to Martha in our diminished capacity.