Good Night, Irish Cousins

Today was Uncle Jackie’s funeral in Mineola on Long Island. I will hold his memory and personality close to my heart.
We were able to be in church for the funeral Mass; masks and social distancing required. We could gather around the grave and each drop a single rose.
My cousins found a restaurant w outdoor, shaded seating.
My Grandma Alice often bragged that she had 17 grandchildren.
A tally for today, in age order--or pretty close. P means present.

1. My brother John [absent, makes rare cameo appearances].
2. Sis P
3. My brother Will [absent, seems to respect the Irish uncles but also makes cameo appearances--both brothers live in the heart of Manhattan].
4. John, Jackie’s eldest, died in 2005, still missed.
5. Maria P --Sis said she reminded her of Mommy.
6. Jimmy P --their family lived down the block from us, and Jimmy was so cute, I used to wish I could marry him when I was little.
7. Veronica [Ron] P, who flew in from Minnesota. Beauty, mother of 4 sons.
8. Theresa P, Jackie’s warm-hearted older daughter. She and her family shared a house with Jackie for the last 12 years. What a blessing.
9. Annie P, dancing brown eyes, one year ahead of me at Dumont High.
10. Stevie, Jackie’s son, who died on his bike when he was in about sixth grade. Losing  him left an indelible mark on us all. He and Cathy were my closest peers age-wise.
11. Me P
12. Cathy, my playmate, now in Florida.
13. Laura P, also a sweet cohort.
14. Loretta P Jackie’s younger daughter. Spunky and kind.
15. Michael P, Jackie’s youngest.
16. Malachy P.
17. Joe P, Cathy’s little brother.

Good night, Uncle Jackie. Soft landing. You’ve earned it. Now comes the hard part for the rest of us.