Some time ago Mary B asked me if I had any good Irish wake stories and I said no but after thinking about it a while I remember this incident that happened when I was visiting Ireland in the sixties.
The first time I went to Ireland was before the Celtic Tiger and the explosive economic growth that Ireland experienced in the 90's. At that time the old ways were still pretty much followed. Everyone in Ireland was very kind to me and they wanted me to savor all the customs of Ireland. They especially were anxious that I experience a real old Irish wake. At that time and I think it may still be the practice, when a person dies, they are waked the first night in their own home and then the second night, they are waked in the church. When a person is waked in their home, all the neighbors and family gather at the house. Tea and whiskey are served to all the guests. The coffin is in the parlor if there is one or in the large room that served as a kitchen and a kind of family room. (a lot like the great rooms they're building in new homes now).
As it was described to me, the body was not embalmed but simply washed and two pennies were placed on the eyes to keep them shut. There usually was one woman in the village who prepared the body. Candles were placed at the head of the bed and maybe a bottle of whiskey and a pipe full of tobacco. I don't know all the details. Somebody had to sit up with the corpse all night and to help keep themselves awake, the mourners would tell stories, sing songs and play games. So if the person was old and had been sick a long time the wake becomes an occasion for celebration and somewhat of a party.
But everyone agreed I should see a real Irish wake before I left Ireland. The most likely candidate was a poor old man named Tosh. Not his real name but for some reason that's what everyone called him. He was, they assured me on death's door and most likely to die soon.
It happened around that time that my Aunts decided since I had a car to make an excursion to Dublin to visit my cousin Aunt Julia's son who was in the hospital there and to do a little shopping. We spent the night and after the visit to the hospital we set out for home. On the way back, we passed the graveyard and they noticed a freshly dug grave. "Oh, it looks like Tosh passed away." they said. "We better stop at the house." As it was on the way, we did and found the family in mourning all right, but no Tosh. He had been waked the night before and was already in the church for the second night before his burial.
When we walked in the door of the cottage, the women of the house started to wail as if in their hearts were broken. I really felt bad that they were taking it so hard even though Tosh was such an old man. Soon the crying died down and they made us a cup of tea and started to chat about things, maybe our trip to Dublin I don't remember exactly. But then some others neighbors came in the door and the wailing started up again and it was then that I realized that it was not crying but keening that they were doing. Just as you might have read in Irish Literature such as "Riders to the sea."
We finished our tea and continued back to Ashleam but we were waved over by Sarah who had run down the lane to greet us. Still out of breath, she blurted out, "Kay, Tosh died while you were in Dublin and you were looking forward to it so much".
Oh my gosh, I thought I hope nobody really believes that. Poor Tosh!
So I missed my chance to see a real Irish wake, but I did go to the funeral. The funeral mass was held at the church at the Sound and then we followed the hearse on foot to the cemetery. After the prayers were said at the grave side, the coffin is lowered into the ground and all the mourners drop a clod of earth on the coffin. The widow attempts to throw herself into the grave while others hold her back (I can't believe she's not counting on that. I'm sure it's part of the custom also, like the keening.)Then the men retire to the pubs and the woman go home to make the tea.
My cousin told me laughingly that Tosh had arthritis so bad his body was all crippled up and his knees were permanently bent. When they put him in the coffin they had to straighten his legs out so he would fit. They nailed the boards down but when they went to pick up the coffin the knees bent up again and he knocked the slats out of the coffin! Poor Tosh got no respect even in death!
That's my Irish wake story, do you not agree poor Tosh died in vain, since I never got to attend his wake?
To read more about the real old Irish wakes, Check out this website:
(http://www.rootsweb.com/~irlcar2/An_Irish_Wake.htm)