Sitting Up With The Dead

In the old days around here, when someone died, it was customary to have them laid out in the residence. The undertaker would get them ready, then transport them back to their family home for viewing. Most times the casket was placed in the living room or parlor. Out of respect for the deceased, someone stayed with the body at all times.
The lucky one who got to watch over the deceased at night was referred to as ‘sitting up with the dead.’ I don’t believe I would have particularly cared for this little assignment personally. Not that I’d have been scared, mind you. Just a tad queasy, maybe. I prefer my company to be breathing.
When my great-uncle Jess passed, he was laid out and the family gathered to pay their respects. My poor old daddy was just a boy himself back then. My grandpa Clarence told Pop, "Billy, I told em’ you’d sit up with Jess for a while tonight."
My dad was scared out of his wits! "Now hold on, Pa! Ain’t he the dead guy?"
My grandfather was not amused. "You best hush, boy, afore I switch your behind."
Well, Pop dreaded it all day, but the time finally arrived for him to take his seat in the living room and watch over poor old, recently deceased, Uncle Jess. Pop got himself a comic book and took his post. Grandpa had assured him that there was nothing to be afraid of, nothing at all.
"We all have to do our part, son. Don’t worry. Old Jess ain’t gonna’ bother you none."
Pop kept a close eye on Jesse that night, and it seemed to him that every once in awhile, the old man’s hands moved. "Naw, cain’t be! I’ve just seen one too many serials at the theater." Try as he might to reassure himself, he was one scared little boy. Trying desperately to shake off his feeling of dread, he buried himself in his comic book, ashamed of his fear of something that couldn’t possibly hurt him. Still, every pop, every creak and groan of that old house, scared him half to death.
I don’t know much about it, but I’ve heard that bodies store some kind of gas that can make the muscles contract, and the corpse move. I’ve never seen it. Lord knows, I hope I never do! A little after midnight, as Pop kept a vigil over Old Jess, this strange phenomenon reared it’s ugly head. All of a sudden, with no warning at all, Old Jess’ body sat straight up in the casket! My daddy screamed, and ran out the screen door as fast as he could go! The screen door was shut and locked at the time. That didn’t give Pop any pause at all, he just ran right through it!
When he got outside he realized it was pitch black, and he sure didn’t want any part of that. Not after what he’d just seen! He ran back into the house, and there was Old Jess, sitting up in his casket! Pop screamed again, and shot right back out the door! The poor boy had no safe place to go!
Luckily for him, my grandpa Clarence came on the run when he heard Pop’s terrified cries. He grabbed onto Pop, as he ran wailing by, and held on tight. Holding him in a tight, comforting embrace, grandpa tried to explain to Pop what had happened. Poor Dad wasn’t having any part of this logical explanation. All he knew, was that dead guys ain’t supposed to move on ya.
Grandpa put Uncle Jess back down and took the rest of the night in Pop’s place. My dad slept with his momma in a death grip, and to this day, my poor old daddy gets the jitters in a funeral home.
The older folks got quite a kick out of Pop’s adventure. The men laughed as they replaced the screen door daddy had destroyed as he fled. That was my Pop’s first, and last, experience with ‘sitting up with the dead.’