Comments on: Funeral Day, a guide

By: Diana

Diana — Wed, 30 Nov -0001 00:00:00 +0000

I couldn’t be there for the funeral. I live across the country, I have two little kids, and I can’t really afford it right now. But all day long, Bil kept coming into my thoughts. I wish I could have been there with all of you.

I was going downtown with my four-year-old daughter, Ruby, on the bus to see The Nutcracker ballet, and we passed a graveyard, an old, beautiful one with lots of big trees. She asked, is that a park? And I explained to her about what a graveyard was, that there were people buried under all the stones. I’ve told her about burials before—she’s been kind of fascinated by the concept of death for a few months now, the result of reading lots of fairy tales. But seeing the graveyard made it real to her. “Are there really people under there?” “Yes, sweetie.” “Would I see them if I looked under the stones?” “No, Ruby, they bury them deep.” And my eyes filled with tears as I thought about Bil, and I explained that that was what they were doing to my friend I had told her about, and that it made me sad. She was nice. She held my hand. But I hated being 3000 miles away yesterday.

By: Kathy O

Kathy O — Wed, 30 Nov -0001 00:00:00 +0000

Thanks, Rob.

Donna, Dianna, Dawn, Bill T, John Genovese and I could not be there yesterday and it was hard, but not quite as hard as it was for all of you who were there. Thank you all for being there and representing Bil’s community of friends who will never be the same without him.

By: Ellen

Ellen — Wed, 30 Nov -0001 00:00:00 +0000

It was terrible and yet wonderful to see everyone on this day (though I missed the friends who could not attend.) I wondered, “where did all the years go?” Fifteen years is a long time to go without seeing a friend you once couldn’t go 15 minutes without , you know. There were the friends you did everything with there, and then the friends that took you a moment to remember, an “oh, that’s right! How are you?”, yet you can’t pinpoint a moment in time with them, which, makes you feel terribly old. And when friends start talking about this memory or that, and you join in, and then are reminded you already said that a day ago in an email, or someplace else, you start to go “Jeez. I’m REALLY getting freakin’ old”. And that was almost just as sad, facing lost time, lost memories, all on top of a lost friend, one I’ll only ever see again in my mind’s eye. Which ain’t all that bad, really, because at least it’s better to remember Bil as he was when we all knew him, and not in a serious suit that wasn’t him, with a smile that wasn’t right, unable to have the last word.

Bil was vibrant and fun, alive and bitchy, beyond hysterical and witty and needy and just completely unforgettable. I choose to remember him that way. In a Maude wig. Or as Russ Stardust. Or as Bil, just him, no act, no costume, no pretense. Just Bil.

There was nothing better than that.

By: Lauren

Lauren — Wed, 30 Nov -0001 00:00:00 +0000

Sorry I tackled you at the casket, Rob. But thanks for staying up there with me while I said goodbye to Bil.

It was such a surreal day. Weeping as I approached the casket for the first time but actually breaking a smile when I saw the floral arrangement from Family Feud. Sharing and listening intently to one hilarious Bil story after another. Looking in disbelief at Bil’s little league picture. (Bil’s deep, dark secret was that he actually played sports.) Of course, his baseball hat was turned to the side so he stood out from the other boys. Realizing he was born a clown when I saw the pic of Bil dressed as a clown on his first Halloween. Seeing how Bil’s sense of humor came from his family, his mom, sisters and that uncle who sashayed into the room of Glasssboro/NYC friends, wearing a wig and proclaiming his was Clay … Aiken maybe? We all sat there, mouths hanging open, believing we had seen a ghost. I also thought it might be an old queen making a late entrance. Mim thought maybe Bil had orchestrated this bizarre scene to have the last laugh. Either way, it was a moment that would only occur at Bil’s funeral.

It’s still so hard to say “Bil’s funeral.” Thanks again to Rob for giving us all this forum to help us get through such a rough time.