funerals

[mrsbrown]

I'm off to a memorial service today.  I'm glad the family is having a private ceremony and then sharing the experience with all of the many people who will wish to be there.

Funerals remind me of Rachel Lynde.  She made a point of going to funerals in her community and would come home and critique them and the lives of the people who had died.

I have Rachel Lynde tendencies.  I think funerals are an important part of the development of community and an affirmation of the importance of the person in the life of the community.  I like it when funerals have lots of attendees. I like to think that the family does too and so my attendance is a gift to them.

Otoh, the family have scheduled this memorial quickly (giving interstate travellers a challenge to get here in time),  on one of the hottest days of the year, in a space described as "small" - does that mean they would prefer people to stay away? (It's ok, I just checked, I've been there before and it's not that small)

The saddest funeral I ever went to had only 8 people and the celebrant had never met the deceased.  The ceremony spoke only of his work life and made almost no mention of his relationships with his wife, children or community.  I was horrified.

I hope there are lots of people at my funeral. 

Comments

[lederhosen]

Yeah, I've been to some really good funerals (and one atrociously bad one).

My grandmother's funeral was difficult because family relations had been horribly fraught for decades. She was mentally ill (paranoia and bipolar, IIRC) and that led to all sorts of feuding. When she died, my two surviving aunts hadn't been talking to one another for some years (beyond basic politeness at family events etc).

But they got together with my uncle and managed a three-part speech that acknowledged how hard it had been for everybody (not least my grandmother), and I think it's made a big difference. I think it's the first time since I was born that everybody on that side of the family has been on friendly terms.

Also went to one on my wife's side where the priest did a good job despite never having met the deceased, because he asked around the family and listened to what they had to say.

Then there was one that was so awful it crept over into black comedy. The priest got up and told us about what a lovely wife Patricia had been to David, how they'd raised two lovely children - [here he visibly forgot their names and stalled for a bit] - and how she'd been a good Catholic and received Extreme Unction from him just before she died.

Then one of her friends got up and told us all about Anne. [She was "Patricia Anne" but always went by her middle name.] How lovely it was that even though she and David had divorced eight years ago, they'd cooperated to bring up two children. How she'd found comfort in Buddhism, and how one of her happiest moments was getting to meet the Dalai Lama...

(Basically, the ex's parents had decided she was going to die as a Catholic, and she was too sick to argue.)