Mary Ann Ludwig - What a Way to Go

 

 

So, it's February 2001, and my husband Herb and I are on our way to my mother-in-law, Nancy's funeral in Queens. We’re very sad, of course. Underneath that is, on my part, some apprehension, because it's the first time I would have ever gone to a Jewish funeral, and I'm not quite sure what to expect. 

 

In addition to that, my husband and his family are all super intelligent. Their IQs are off the chart. Actually, Herb has an IQ of 167 and he's a mathematical genius. But on the other hand, growing up my mom would tell me, “You have potential. Just buckle down. You'll be okay.” So, one on one, we make it work in our marriage. He helps the kids with their algebra and I remind him in the morning to make sure his shoes match. [audience laughter] But I'm going to be in a funeral home with aunts, uncles, cousins, immediate family whose IQs are just unbelievable. And I'm not quite sure if I can hold my own. 

 

So, we arrive at the funeral home. It's a little daunting, because it's huge. It has multiple floors and it has multiple chapels on each floor, Herb tells me. There'll be funerals going on simultaneously, so it does nothing to assuage my anxiety. We walk in. And there is my father-in-law, [unintelligible 00:19:58] in his wheelchair and Cousin Joni. So, we approach Nancy's coffin. And with that, Cousin Joni says, “I don't want to say anything, but that's not Nancy.” [audience laughter] 

 

We all just freeze in place, like this one huge mannequin challenge. After a second or so, we simultaneously lean forward together and take another look and sure enough, this little gray-haired lady is not our Nancy. Nancy is larger than life. She has short hair that she wears straight up like Bart Simpson. I mean Bart, not Marge. She dyes it to match her lipstick and her Lee Press on Nails. This is not Nancy. 

 

So, within a second or two, the funeral director and all the management is over there talking to us, saying, “Don't worry, we're going to figure it out. Just give us some time. Go sit down. Relax.” [audience laughter] So, we all huddle together. Eventually, my husband, Herb and my brother-in-law, Alan, they hatch a plan. I think, oh, no, this is not going to be good, because they're super bright, but they have a little bit of a challenge getting what's in their heads out into any practical application. 

 

So, here's their plan. Their plan is to get a picture of Nancy and go from funeral to funeral and just say, “Have you seen our loved one today?” [audience laughter] I decide, this is a time for the logic of a girl who has potential to show itself and put the kibosh on that, backed up by management. 

 

So, a few hours later, we're sitting there and the whole family and they're scratching their heads and they're trying to figure out what happened, how did it happen, and all this circuitous thinking. I can't take it anymore. So, I go over and I grab my husband's hand, I said, come on, let's go talk to the funeral director. So, we do. And he says, “Hey, we're finding out some information. It turns out that Nancy and another lady by the name of Mrs. Rosen, both died on the same day at the same hospital. And in transporting them here, Nancy was tagged as Mrs. Rosen and Mrs. Rosen was tagged as Nancy.” I think, terrific, we're getting to the bottom of this. Let’s call the Rosens and we'll put the issue to rest, so to speak. [audience laughter] 

 

And then, the funeral director says, “Well, you know, therein lies the problem, because Mrs. Rosen services were earlier this morning, and Nancy was inadvertently buried in Mrs. Rosen's grave.” But I have some good news. He said, “The good news is that the cemetery where Nancy's going to be interred has agreed to stay open no matter how late it takes us to get the state attorney general involved to exhume Nancy, bring her back here for services inter Mrs. Rosen. It's going to be a long day.” [audience laughter] So, we all wait hour after hour after hour. And eventually, just as night falls, they bring Nancy back in the hearse, and we conclude her services and go off onto the cemetery to inter her. 

 

Now, it had been raining all day long. It finally just stopped as the temperature went up. And as if on cue, a fog rolled in. We pull into the cemetery, the hearse ahead of us in the procession behind that. And all the cars, they pull alongside the graves, and there's an open grave for Nancy. So, Herb and his brother, they're helping his dad out of the car and into a wheelchair. And not surprisingly, they put it in the mud. I look at that and I said, well, I'll go over and watch as they take Nancy's coffin out of the hearse. So, I said to the rabbi, by any chance, has anybody double checked to make sure it's actually Nancy? [audience laughter] 

 

Through the fog, I can see him shaking his head left to right and saying, “No, but you know, it's too late now, because we've already started the prayers.” I lean into it and I say, well, with all due respect, rabbi, we have to check. In that moment, I feel like, “Oh, my God, I'm challenging a rabbi.” I would never challenge a priest, because I would know, for sure, the next day I would be in church doing penance. I'm not sure how it's going to go down with a rabbi. 

 

But then, something in me changes and all of a sudden, I feel a little self-confident and I feel like, “You're holding your own, Mary Ann. You're doing okay.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Herb and his brother hoist my father-in-law and his wheelchair up on their shoulders and they're carrying him over to the grave. I think neither Nancy nor I are going anywhere until that coffin is open. And sure enough, they do open the coffin and there is our Nancy, not a hair out of place, ready to be interred in her own grave. 

 

So, eventually, we get home. It's really super late. Just as we enter our apartment, the phone rings and it's the rabbi and he says, “The Rosens called, and they wanted to convey their condolences. They also wanted to let you know that that morning when they inadvertently buried Nancy by mistake through no fault of their own, that it was a lovely ceremony.” [audience laughter] Thank you.