Yesterday I went to a funeral. It was for a man from my church who suffered from a stroke about three weeks ago while recovering from a long illness. He was a funny old man.
It was the second funeral I have attended since my mother passed away in early December of 2006. The other funeral was for a dear friend who passed away unexpectedly. He was like a grandfather to Chic and Chicklet, especially Chicklet (who we have previous established has special relationships with men). His funeral was in our church. The one yesterday was in a funeral home.
Yesterday’s funeral had a couple of things that I thought were unusual. The first was that there was a social time afterwards in the funeral home (which is what was completely new to me) that had appetizers–potluck style. Chicklet was with me, and the service had already cut severely into her nap time, so I dropped off my dainty tidbits and left. The other thing was that the during the service, the funeral director pulled every card from every floral arrangement and had the greetings read to the entire group sitting there. Although I was not offended by this, I can think of a few reasons why that might not be a good idea. It also took a very long time (cards were being pulled as the reading was happening). We were already well past an hour of actual service, and Chicklet (age 4) was about fed up with quietly sitting still.
But through all of this, I did not mind being at the funeral home…
Funerals are not something I like. OK, who likes them? But I detest funerals. By the time I turned eleven years old, I had been to well over 25 funerals that I could remember. My father’s aunts and uncles were old. My parents helped out old people. We just seemed to be connected to a lot of people that died, and I had my fill of funerals at an early age. Personally, the necessity of funerals had escaped me. I have never thought I needed a funeral for closure. To me they are mostly a time of misery. A few forced laughs to check the flow of tears periodically, but overall not something necessary in my world.
Funerals are, however, necessary for most Americans, so whether you like it or not, when someone dies, there is usually going to be a funeral.
When my mom died the funeral was three days after her death. Due to the circumstances of her death, and knowing what she would have wanted, my father, my brother and I decided to do it quickly and simply with no fanfare. My mother’s family did not appreciate this at all and made the whole thing a big ordeal by their interference. Their wishes were not granted. (This is a completely different story, but they spent a lifetime making my mother’s and father’s lives miserable, so I was pretty firm about not bowing to their desires. It was just their desires, and I knew it was against everything in which my mother believed.) Since that time they have on their own done things to make my mother’s passing more to their liking, but at the time it was not at all to their liking.
I was not with my mother when she died. I knew she was going to die, and I had been there eight days before. Had she lived I would have returned four days later, but I did not live close, and it was not possible for me to be there the entire time. As we were driving back to Missouri after we learned of her passing, we got countless phone calls from my mother’s family, my mother’s caretaker and my father’s family all telling their side of whatever story and why we should do this or this or that, or complaining about some other party that had been calling us. As was often the case before her death (years before), everyone was mad at everyone, and I was supposed to fix it. At this time I probably was the logical person because my father and brother had been in the thick of things until the end, and neither of them had the emotional stamina to deal with selfish people. Because selfish is what they were. The reasons given why we should do this or that was never in consideration of my mother, her husband or her children.
Apparently, these people will never learn that it is unwise to order me around. Making absurd demands of me, especially at a time like this, meant that I would do the exact opposite, if that was possible. The only reason those people got anything the way they wanted was that I was on the road when my dad was at the funeral home, and he caved to one demand–to have a funeral. (I would have had a private graveside service, which is what my mother wanted.)
Funerals are never pleasant events, and they tend to bring out the worst in people. I do not think that was the case with my mother’s funeral because her family always has their worst on display. For some crazy reason my mouth would still drop open at their unbelievable selfish behavior (shouldn’t I have been used to that after 41 years living around them?), but they were no different at the funeral than in daily life.
Since I hated funerals, I was truly dreading this one. I did not want a bunch of people comforting me. The circumstances of my mother’s death (she had a 9-year illness that rendered her unable to take care of herself all those years) meant that I would have to put on the fake smile to many insincere people offering condolences. Maybe some were truly sorry about our loss, but many ditched both of my parents when my mother’s illness began. I have always been honest (brutally honest in the opinion of some), not false. Politeness in this case would call for being deceptive, which I not only dislike, but think is wrong.
The funeral went better than expected. The family room at the funeral home was open to my dad, my brother, my mother’s caretaker, me and my family. The other family was irritated that they were prohibited from being there, but their irritation was more than fine with me. When it was over, I was relieved and just happy to be done with it…
Back to yesterday. As I sat in the funeral home, I was comfortable. It was not anything about it specifically (the sound system was bad, the decor was extremely dated, the service was too long and had odd additions to it), but just being there. I thought about it the whole time I sat there and finally came to the conclusion that it was comfortable because I connected it to my mother. The last time I had been in a funeral home, it was for my mother’s funeral. It was after her life ended, which had not been so wonderful for many years, and she was finally at peace. The last time I saw her face (with WAY too much make-up; she did not wear makeup at all) was in a funeral home. Seeing her lifeless form was not a comforting experience, but the last time I saw her face before that, it was wracked with pain and pleading eyes. She could not talk for several years before her death, but her eyes communicated quite clearly. Near the end her eyes spoke of fear, pain and “PLEASE LET THIS END!” So I guess when I saw her again, she was at least in a restful state. No more pain. No more family garbage. Just rest.
So as I sat there yesterday, I suppose my reflections were what they should have been at my mother’s funeral, had that time not been laced with so much emotion and family political posturing. I had time to process and be comforted. It was nice.
by Louise Cannon
August 22, 2008 at 11:05 pm
1. Lovely story. It makes me wonder about how my family (husband+mom+brother=volatile) will get along in the event of my passing. I don’t like the odds… I think I’ll just try to outlive everyone so I don’t have to worry about it. 😉
2. The card thing… That IS weird. I don’t even really like it when people do the pass the card around thing. Especially something so sensitive as a death, I mean, when I write a card I only really consider that the person I’m writing it to will see it. Yikes.
August 22, 2008 at 11:28 pm
your mother’s funeral sounds like a peaceful affair – my father’s funeral was a little like a funfair at one point – can’t wait to write about that one!
August 23, 2008 at 12:21 am
I hate funerals and most of all the lunch after those (when someone dies in Greece you sit at a table with bread, cheese, olives after the funeral).How can you eat when your stomach is upside down and you feel extremly sad? Customs…!
August 23, 2008 at 12:21 am
This is not meant to be a criticism of anyone else’s beliefs or practices, but I consider funerals one of the more absurd and useless social rituals and, therefore, do not attend them. The one and only reason I would consider attending a funeral is if some living person for whom I cared deeply needed my help and/or support at that time.
August 23, 2008 at 5:06 am
Funerals are never fun, butnthey (or some comparable) ceremony is as much part of life as death is. The customs vary – probably or in multicultural society such as yours than in a more homogeneous one like ours. However, I think one thing is common all over the world: The next of kin decides what to do. Nobody else.
As it should be.
August 23, 2008 at 6:59 am
Louise, Both my parents passed within 4 weeks of eachother, when I was also 41. It is terrible for someone to suffer for so long and also terrible for their loved ones to watch, unable to ease their pain and suffering. Their funerals were in the same funeral home and I was in total control of all. My mother had lost all her family before her, so luckily I didn’t have that to deal with. I was so impressed with that funeral home I went back a prearranged mine. I am not having a funeral, only a viewing. The viewing is for the ones who need this for closure. That is all, no fanfare, just good-byes.
August 23, 2008 at 7:01 am
I’ve never heard of reading the cards-but in the south there is always food at funerals. I’m with you-most of the time funerals end up being for “everyone else” instead of for the deceased or the greiving family.
I’m glad the funeral seemed to bring you closure about your Mother’s death and her funeral. Thats a good thing!
August 23, 2008 at 7:42 am
Some fine pictures in this series. I especially like the “bird” shots. Funeral customs vary greatly (in my limited experience). Where I came from a “viewing” was done in the funeral home and at the grave site. Around here many people only have a memorial service days or even a week after the death with no viewing.
August 23, 2008 at 8:13 am
It’s so sad that the very last thing you could do for your Mother had to be so stressful for you and your family. I always dread funerals and for many of the reasons you’ve described in your post.
I’ve told my husband that I prefer cremation, no funeral, and if he must have a grave, he can have graveside services and inter my ashes. He’d durn sure better abide by my wishes or I’ll come back and haunt him!
August 23, 2008 at 8:33 am
Oh, the funerals. They did everything they could to make up for your mother’s funeral at the last one. Quelle drama!
August 23, 2008 at 8:56 am
Funerals are always terrible and dramatic.
But I always remember the words of Jesus: “Who believes in me even if dead will live”.
August 23, 2008 at 9:40 am
Well – our culture is pretty weird in regard to death anyway. They are always more about the living, then they are about the dead. Instead of celebrating their lives, we tend to be miserable about our loss. I know, that when I kick the bucket – I don’t want anyone to mourn, but celebrate and think of the fun I had… 😉
Cheers, Klaus
August 23, 2008 at 11:03 am
I haven’t been to a funeral in years luckily, but I imagine it was tough, yet healing.
August 23, 2008 at 11:21 am
Thank you for this moving and important post.
When my mother died, I contacted a ‘net-priest’ just to have someone to talk to, and he said: ‘if we cry, we only cry for ourselves’. Actually, I had never thought about it that sorrow could be just ‘selfish’, for me it seems so real. The funeral mourning, during the event though, is very much like being ‘contagious’, some sort of collective sadness, raising form the occasion. I do my mourning on my own, not “collectively”.
August 23, 2008 at 11:22 am
And those pictures! They are absolutely gorgeous!
August 23, 2008 at 2:09 pm
Louise: Funerals are necessary for the living and should be a celebration of the person life. I hate to go but as time goes on I’m able to gain a better understanding of these things happening. Be comforted in the life your Mother lived.
Beautiful photos interspersed in your talk.
August 23, 2008 at 3:11 pm
Louise, thank you for the deep thoughts you’ve shared with us.
August 23, 2008 at 4:59 pm
Some interesting comments here. Lots of people around here serve food after funerals…never thought differently about it. The last one I attended was a memorial service and they had a great big party afterwards….that’s what the deceased requested. I did feel a bit strange at the party. We have to attend one Monday…. a dear old friend. I will miss her quick laughter and love of life. ~ Lynn
August 23, 2008 at 6:23 pm
To this day, I still choke up thinking of my mother’s funeral almost ten years ago. I’m not sure I buy the official line that funerals are necessary for the living… and I cannot imagine having to deal with quarrelsome relations at such a time.
Lovely photos with your post. 🙂
August 23, 2008 at 6:24 pm
I’m glad you found some comfort yesterday, especially since the time (and the people)
around your mother’s funeral weren’t so comforting.
At least you won’t have to deal with them again anytime soon in that context, and maybe never.
August 23, 2008 at 8:54 pm
Funerals are truly ceremonies for the living. Based on a person’s culture, some funerals are very comforting and serve as a way to honor the dead. I was born in a country with very traditional funerals. We have a 7-day wake and depending on subcultures, there may be professional criers (when my cousin’s Chinese mother was buried) hired to wail or cry during the procession. I find them rather comforting especially if the person who passed away gave instructions. I have done many post mortem care in our emergency department here in the US and I always consider preparing the dead body before it is transfered to the morgue a sacred ritual. It may be dead but the body used to be the dwelling of the departed spirit. I like to offer it the most respect. Other than that, the families can decided what is the best funeral for them.
August 23, 2008 at 9:43 pm
To me, as long as you are comforted, that’s what matters. My mother had a stroke, went into a coma and never came out of it. I honestly think that week she was in the coma was for us to get use to the idea of our head of the family and our heart not being there any more.
I don’t like funerals but I think their purpose is an individual thing. I believe that they are necessary as a way for people to say goodbye face to face. I met someone online several years ago and I worked on illustrations for his book. I’d never met him but we emailed and phones each other for over a year. One day I stopped hearing from him and found out he had died of a heart attack. I dropped everything, tracked down where his funeral would be and flew half way across the U.S. to attend the funeral. I couldn’t let them bury him without me looking in his face just once.
I know some people think funerals are unnecessary but you never know who needs that final face to face with with someone to say goodbye for their own sense of peace and comfort. I’m glad my family didn’t behave like yours. My hat’s off to you for having to deal with it. 😦
August 23, 2008 at 10:52 pm
I´ve been in funerals where there was reading of cards and telegrams, I think that´s ordinary. Those occasions have been quite nice too, seeing people that I seldom see in “real” life. Life goes on and people see the happiness through tears.
Nice donkey!
August 24, 2008 at 12:24 am
A well-written and thought-provaking essay. I really enjoyed it.
August 24, 2008 at 12:26 am
“Bibi,” who writes the blog “A Yankee in Belgrade” lost her husband to a stroke this morning at 0130, Belgrade time. The stroke felled him literally moments before they were to leave home for a trip to the U.S. He wasn’t overweight, didn’t smoke or drink and didn’t have a history of high blood pressure. “Louis’s” heart goes out to “Bibi” in this time of grief.
August 24, 2008 at 6:19 am
Isn’t it strange how long it can take us to come around to something important. I’m glad you’re finally settled about this, but I am sorry it had to take so long.
August 24, 2008 at 6:28 am
Great writing! You are a very logical person who can make sense of your own thought processes. For the record – when I die, NO viewing. Cremation. And if the living want to have a party after that, fine. But it won’t be about me. I love the picture of the donkey – thanks for putting that in there!
August 24, 2008 at 8:57 am
I think you handled everything so well considering how sad the situation. The last time I went home was to my parents’ funerals. They passed within months of each other and I haven’t been able to go back home since. The older we get the more funerals we seem to have to go to. I used to quake at the thought of them, but I suppose I am getting used to them now. That sounds awful but I suppose I am becoming more philosophical as each year goes by, it’s all part of life. That being said I hope it is a very, very long time before I have to go to the next one.
August 24, 2008 at 4:36 pm
I avoid funerals, whenever possible. We’ve decided to specify no services for ourselves. I know our children agree.
August 24, 2008 at 6:55 pm
I am so glad that you found some comfort. Isn’t it odd the places we find ourselves? The places that seemingly have no real connection to our lives that make us feel better? My place is the the mission thrift shop. I find comfort in the things of yesteryear. As I scan the shelves of mostly broken items, I can feel the love that surrounded the dishes, the statues, the odds and ends…It’s like touching other people’s lives and when I am blue, i go to the mission to feel “the big picture” of our existance. We live and we die and life goes on, but a piece of us stays here, even if it’s just in the thoughts of some stay-at-home-mom wandering around a thrift shop.
August 25, 2008 at 4:41 am
Very very powerful writing.
I think you are like me (or I am like you) – I do not like falseness either and cannot be false or say false things. Sometimes it gets me into real trouble. 😦
But I love this writing.
Over from David’s.
August 25, 2008 at 9:54 am
After our family went through a similar situation when my grandmother died, I sat my son down and explained to him exactly what I wanted when it was my turn. No visitation, no funeral, no lunch buffet but agreed to a remembrance picnic at the park. Like you, he is strong-willed and won’t let anyone bulldoze him! I am sorry for everything you went through, Louise, and very glad you finally had the time to process and find comfort.
The pictures are wonderful to your post and I love the donkey!
August 27, 2008 at 5:18 am
The flow of your story is quite superb, Louise.
August 29, 2008 at 2:33 pm
Glad you finally got the peace you needed for your mom. Sounds like a tough long time for you and your family. I’m sorry.