Based on my last post, friends have been asking me how the marathon in St. Louis went. I figure I should say something about it, but I’m not quite sure how to start…it’s odd when “real life” meets up with a past-time.

I picked running as a way to exercise while I’m on the road and I’ve stuck with it as a way to travel to places totally unrelated to work. St. Louis fit the bill as most of my family lives there and it seemed like a great excuse for a family reunion.

And as it turned out, we certainly had a family reunion.

My friend Joe and my sister, Tracy, and I flew in on Friday morning and when we called our cousins from the airport we learned that our Aunt Alpha had passed away that morning. Now I’m not going to get maudlin or anything here in this post as I don’t think my Aunt would have liked it based on how the weekend played out, but I do want to take the opportunity to share how great she and the rest of my St.Lo clan are.

See, Alpha was born an O’Brien and this weekend Tracy, Joe and I were introduced to the celebrations known as Irish wakes and all the Bailey’s and Irish Aires they entail.

Alpha and Frank raised there kids really well, and when we arrived at the house from the airport we were immediately embraced by the cousins into the circle as they toasted and reminisced about Alpha. Frank told stories and led the kids in song and we watched videos of recent parties that they’d celebrated with Alpha.

By Saturday we started meeting up with more Finklang cousins, who came up with what I later found out to be a quintessential Finklang plan. On Sunday morning, as I rounded the corner in Forest Park at mile 13 I could hear the sound of banging and hollering cutting through the music on my ipod. And there they were…cousins, uncles, aunts and friends beating on pots with wooden spoons and raising a hand-made sign to cheer me on.

Cousins Frank and Kurt Finklang, beating their “drums” before the fateful broken spoon incident

It was really quite amazing, this celebration of both life and death and all it entails. And the timing of it all…that Tracy and I could participate so fully in the experience with our family. We went from the marathon to the viewing, and there she was…Aunt Alpha wearing a feather boa. What a kick that family is.

I’m still processing the weekend…and trying to quell the unending surges of embarrassment I feel recalling my rendition of Danny Boy that my cousins asked me to sing at the funeral on Monday. Not the embarrassment of being asked. The embarrassment of accidentally starting the song an OCTAVE too high. Let’s just say, I ain’t no Irish tenor.

But the weekend makes me smile, which seems an odd thing to say about the situation. The fact that we could be with our family from “soup to nuts.” And the way they included us as if we lived down the street and saw them every day.

And especially the way they gathered around us when we were leaving from the wake to catch our flights home and serenaded us off with the song The Parting Glass.

Alpha Finklang

What a great lady and what a great family. “…good night and joy be with you all“.