Funerals

This week I know of four people who died.  A friendly neighbor who was loved by his family and community.  An individual who started out life under 2 lbs and lived and loved 87 years.  A father who missed out on the blessings of his four children because he chose alcohol over the really good life.  And a favorite aunt of my daughters friend.

We made a visit to the funeral home to pay our respects to the family.  It is a good thing to do.

I've never felt comfortable in a funeral home.  Never cared to look at the person in the casket.  What do you say to the remaining family members?  Always wondered why people stand around making small talk at a time like this.  Why does everyone act like things are normal?  Why do we go through these rituals?

But though out of my comfort zone, I go anyway.  I go to stand at the casket and look at the empty shell of someones beloved family member.  I look at the hands and resist the impulse to touch to see if the skin feels real.  I evaluate the mouth to see if it looks natural or unnatural.  I wonder why glasses are put on top of closed eye lids as if there will be an awakening from a nap.  And the hair, is it like the person usually wore it?  Then I move on down to the meet and greet line of grieving family.

To the family and friends, I murmur  'I am sorry' as I give a sincere hug.  My heart feels sad for their loss. 

Now I can leave.  The guest book was signed.  I've watched the memorial video celebrating a special life.  I've paid my respects.

 But it is different as I walk away.   Being in a funeral home has opened the fresh wound of my own bereavement for my mom and dad.  Once again, I am engulfed in a sea of grief.  It seems like just yesterday I was thrust into the foreign territory of writing an obituary, gathering pictures for the memorial video, picking out a casket, and planning a funeral service.  Mom first, then a year later Dad.


For as long as I can remember, I thought I could NEVER, EVER see either of my parents lying in the casket.  But strangely, it was a comfort to stand at their casket.  I knew neither one of them were suffering anymore.  It was good to look into an expressionless face and see no pain. Absent from the body but present with the Lord.   Special clothing was chosen for the last appearance.  Mom in her pretty teal blue 50th anniversary dress and her earrings.  Dad decked out in his beloved Captain's shirt and tie.    Their hair was fixed like they would have wanted it.  And I was comfortable to stroke their hair one more time.

I wonder if these memories will fade in time.