Funerals: The good, the bad, and the ugly.

[Sally Mander]

Originally Posted by rachelellogram

Same here! My grandma wanted us to play Joe Diffie (country music) at her funeral, and it's hard to be somber to Good Brown Gravy and Pickup Man!

What? Not Prop Me Up beside The Jukebox If I Die?

[Anaamika]

At my mother's cremation the priest my mother had hand-selected couldn't remember her name and asked four times.

[Cicero]

I was on a bus tour in Ireland and the coach we were in got caught in a funeral cortege going around the Ring of Kerry. Hell, that was a long trip.

[Imasquare]

Originally Posted by not what you'd expect

At my husbands funeral, the pastor told us all that it was too late for Jeff, cause he was already in hell, ...

The pastor needs to read his bible a little better.

[etv78]

Awkward: I went to school with a boy with Muscular Dystrophy. He passed away last year. I found out on a Friday that his wake was Sunday. I had hoped former classmates would also attend, despite the short notice. Of course, I was the only one there, hence I'm in a room with a bunch of strangers.

Funny (all from my Grandmother's funeral): At her wake, my 2-year-old nephew met his aunt's (my sis) future in-laws for the 1st time. He smiles, and says,"Hi Buck's mom, hi Buck's dad." (Buck is his nickname) On the way to the graveside, we managed to have people "hijack" our procession. When they arrived, they quickly realized their mistake. (not as funny) On the way home, my father had to show a house (he's a p/t realtor) to my bro's friends. My system decides to rebel, and I mess my mother's apholstry. (my nose got rubbed in this for awhile after)

Weird: At my uncle's wake, I saw one of my cousin's friends there, and I thought "hey she's cute." I had to leave because I CHECKED OUT A GIRL AT A WAKE! (I recounted this story in my original run here on the Dope)

Another funny: During my grandfather's procession, my wheelchair fell off the back of my mother's station wagon.

[Barrett Bonden]

My grandfather's wake was held at a local funeral home. Between children and spouses, grandchildren, colleagues, friends, family of friends, friends of family, there were a lot of people passing through. I was catching up with some siblings and cousins while keeping half an eye on the receiving line in case someone I knew should pass by. I noticed a woman enter dressed all in black. I noticed her not because of the black (although her garments were not what I would call a somber cut), but because she was heavily accesorized with a good deal of large (I presume) cubic zircona accoutrements, including a reasonably large and blingie hairband. Also, she was pushing a pram.

As she passed by in line, I peeked inside the old-fashioned stroller and saw a little black dog. It was decked out in a small red chiffon princess dress with a sash, and wore a cz-studded collar that sort of matched its owner's blingie hairband. The dog showed no interest in any of its surrounding; I think it was overcome with embarrassment.

The owner and the pram proceeded past my grandfather's casket and along the receiving line. They paid their respects. My grandmother is unflappable; she did not appear flapped.

The funeral home staff apologized to us later. They said when the woman had brought the dog in, it had been wearing a Service Vest, so they allowed it. Apparently the owner (the spouse of the son of longtime family friends) removed the vest as soon as they got inside, so as not to clash with the red chiffon dress.

[lorene]

The saddest memorial service I have ever been to was for my friend who passed away last year. She had known for a long time that she was dying, so she had actually written most of the memorial service herself. During the service, there was a slide show of family pictures that was showing and towards the end of the hour, her 5-year-old son looked up, saw her picture, and started crying for his Mommy. It was so horribly, wrenchingly sad.

My Mother-in-Law passed away earlier this year, and there were so many moments along the way that made me laugh harder than I thought I should during a terrible time, cry harder than I knew I would, or both at the same time. My kids came to the wake, which was fairly long for young children (4 hours, although I did take them home after 3 or so). I had bought some toys to take out when their attention waned, including some Cars 2 cars for my son. He kept going up to the casket to talk to Nana (he was big on wishing her luck in her journey and actually, in the days before she died, suggested that we bake her a good luck cake---talk about laughing and crying at the same time). I found it very sweet, until I noticed that he was rolling one of his toy cars along the casket. My sister-in-law reminded me that Nana would have thought that was just fine.

The service itself was pretty amazing. My nephew (by marriage) sang Abide With Me, and I still get goosebumps when I think about it. I knew he was "into singing", but I had no idea of the depth of his talent. And my brother-in-law gave a eulogy that managed to be funny in places, wry in places, and then sucker-punched you with sadness in the end. It was a lovely tribute to a lovely woman.

Damn. I'm tearing up now. Next week would have been her birthday and I miss her terribly.

[TruCelt]

Originally Posted by etv78

. . .

Weird: At my uncle's wake, I saw one of my cousin's friends there, and I thought "hey she's cute." I had to leave because I CHECKED OUT A GIRL AT A WAKE! (I recounted this story in my original run here on the Dope)

. . .

/Tangent Back in the 70's, when overpopulation was always a big topic of discussion, my Grandfather would never fail to chime in that "You could cut the population growth of Ireland in half, just by outlawing Wakes." Flirtation, poker, food, and booze were the order of the evening. And yes, sit up the deceased and pour one for him/her as well!! \tangent

[notquitekarpov]

A friend of the wife's died in his forties from a brain tumor - had wife and two young daughters so the funeral was pretty hard going.

Now Matthew wasn't the church going type so the service at the crematorium (no church first) was conducted skillfully not to mention god at all, whilst providing enough comfort to those attending that did (which did not include his wife or kids either). A tough job to pull off well and the minister did it well.

Matthew had though clearly left instructions for some chosen pop songs to be played rather than hymns sung. As others have said, these services are for the living not the dead so if I was him I would have allowed folk to have a good sing to a few well known hymns - often makes people feel better having something to do to join in. Instead all the songs he had played have just become difficult for those that loved him due to the memories they bring up.

So when "Hungry Heart" comes on the radio, five years later or so, my wife still wells up within a few bars. Awkward when she's driving for instance...

[Nava]

After my father's funeral, my literary uncle who always has to trump everybody declaimed that Dad had been "the last hidalgo", the last man to keep a certain code of conduct and honor.

People started nodding, but I said "not accurate. You simply haven't met your brother's friends."

People went silent, and then those who did know my father's friends said "true".

The last hidalgo... except for those still standing.



The moron who officiated the funeral of my art teacher described him as "a sweet man" at one point. There was a moment of stunned silence before everybody, including the widow, broke into giggles. Dude was a helluva artist and a helluva teacher, but about as sweet as tequila.

[VunderBob]

I was at a funeral about a month ago for my former boss' wife.

It was the first time I was at the graveside portion, and it was cut short for incoming weather. No sooner than the funeral director interrupted the preacher's comments, there was a loud clap of thunder. The crowd scattered...

[Floater]

The bad:

This is not really about the funeral as such, but about afterwards when family, relatives, friends and also not so few students of my uncle's (I understand he was a popular teacher) were sitting together in my aunt's home for a bite and a talk. In my opinion such gatherings are very good because everyone feels that now the sad part is over and we can begin to look forwards again. At about the point when people's spirits had risen to more or less normal levels the priest (who had known my uncle since he was a child and had also baptised him) held a speech. It was not that bad from a religious point of view, but it was extremely emotional. You could see how people got sadder and sadder, some started crying, and the priest was totally oblivious of the impact he had on us - to him it was an ordinary day at the office - and just went on and on.

The good:

Originally Posted by Eureka

My grandmother's funeral service was lead by the new minister of her church--who'd probably known Grandma for all of 2 months, one of which was while she was in the hospital. But her policy in any event was to gather up the family and talk about the deceased for a couple of hours, and use that as the basis for her homily.

This could be about my father's funeral, with the difference that she had been in the congregation several years and they knew each other well.

When our mother died a year ago my brother and I asked if it was possible that the same priest, now retired, could conduct that funeral as well. We were told that she was not allowed to charge anything (my guess is that her successors didn't want to be outranked in popularity by her), but of course she could take care of it and it was a really nice service once again.

[Hypno-Toad]

We buried my great uncle Howard at Arlington. This was doubly fitting because he had not only served in Korea and Vietnam, but because he had been one of The Old Guard (3rd US Amry Infantry Regiment) and had spent many years burying soldiers in that very place. In fact, he was being buried by the very same company in which he had served. This mattered a great deal to these men. They were burying one of their own. The ceremony was perfectly executed, which would have pleased him. I've regretted ever since that I did not ask him more about his duties.

My dad's folks died when I was young but I have interesting stories of my mom's parents' funeral. Grandad died when I was in Canada, so I missed a colorful time. Like how much interest my male white trash cousins were showing in my sister. My mom almost certainly has half siblings running around. Maybe a lot of them. Grandad got around A LOT. So when mom and aunt Judy saw a wreath from "Mary-Lee Hoist" they set out to see who this unknown woman was and determine the nature of her previously unknown relationship to granddad. They spent a long time looking everyone over to see who they were and then asking friends and relations if they knew Mary-Lee Hoist. When they got to uncle Ronnie he started laughing as he pointed out that it was from his buddies with whom he worked as a hoist operator at the Mary-Lee coal mine.

At grandmas funeral things were slightly ugly. Grandma had been a master manipulator of my mom all her life. Specifically, she would make onerous demands of my mom and get her to do them by talking about how "Judy would do it because she loves me." So when mom and Judy were up there at the coffin, Judy was putting on a show of grief to cement her position as the Good, Loving Daughter while mom just quietly paid her respects. It was embarrassingly theatrical and quite obvious from the way she turned it on and off like the flick of a switch. Keep in mind that my mom is the one sending money to both Grandma and Judy for 40 odd years while Judy leeched and mooched to support her own ultimately fatal prescription drug habit as well as her sons' various addictions. But mom got to stand quietly over Judy's coffin not too many months ago. So the last word if not the last laugh.

[pbbth]

When my great grandmother died her cat, who must have been nearing 18 or 19 years old at that point, curled up next to her and passed away a few minutes later. Both she and her cat were cremated and we got my great grandma's ashes back in a grey plastic box. The cat's ashes came back in a beautiful gold box with her name engraved on the front of it.

After her memorial my cousin leaned over to me and whispered, "When I die make sure to take me to the vet!"

[Zebra]

Originally Posted by Lacunae Matata

It wasn't funny at the time...

While we were planning my sister's funeral, it came to the family's attention that my mother's asshole of an ex husband planned to attend. That's when we learned that he couldn't legally be barred. (Some crap about it being a "public" event, based on the wording of the published obituary. I don't know.) A friend of the family, who was a state patrol officer at the time, even went to the ex's house, and asked him to stay away... He didn't. But he didn't stay for long.

Mom was using a cane at the time, having broken her leg a few months earlier. When the ex got to the funeral home, my brother and stepdad were trying to hold Mom back.

Was this man her actual father?

[Kevbo]

Kevbabes Mom died. So we we at the funeral in a distant city. Kev-niece was a HS senior, and there was a college in that city on the short list, so they scheduled an interview after the funeral and reception. Which ran late. Very late. The family had all come by limo, so there was nobody to give her a ride to the interview. So the plan became to have the limo driver drop Kev-niece and Kev-SIL at campus, take the rest of the clan to dead MIL's house, and send someone to retrieve them.

Well nobody was from there, and nobody had a campus map. They knew only that they needed to go to PatronName Hall, room nnn. So we roll up next to a student walking, I roll down the window and ask "Pardon me, have you any Grey Poupon?" Yeah, inappropriate, but the clan needed the laugh, and honestly, how many chances in a lifetime to you get a chance to throw out that line?

[TreacherousCretin]

Originally Posted by Tracyfish

On a less humorous note, the pastor during the funeral service managed to screw up my father's family's nickname for him.

Last Fall we attended the funeral for my wife's favorite uncle. He was a WW2 veteran, and got the full-blown 21 gun salute with folded flag. Those parts of the military ceremony were executed with precision and respect, and I'm sure Chuck would have been proud.
But the officer who then gave the little generic eulogy was disgraceful. He read it off a card in a rushed, flat monotone devoid of inflection or thoughtfulness. He sounded like someone speaking a language they didn't understand, uttering sounds instead of words. He'd apparently done the speech hundreds of times before, and probably didn't realize how jaded and bored he'd become.
AND me mispronounced Chuck's last name. Inexcusable.
Fortunately, Chuck's son-in-law's minister had been invited to also say a few words, and a proper eulogy was delivered, with sadness, humor, and feeling. And respect.
.

[fluiddruid]

My grandpa recently passed and the funeral mostly set my teeth on edge. Grandpa was a sweet and kind man, and though his religious and political views were pretty extreme right, he generally didn't make too much of an issue of it and certainly was not in your face about old time religion. The sermon, however, was nothing but a description of heaven and where Grandpa was right now, but what Grandpa was thinking and feeling in great detail when he saw Jesus and all the different features of Heaven (because the pastor apparently knows everything down to the minutest detail) but that he was also anguishing over those among us who secretly did not have faith in Jesus and weren't born again, followed by fire and brimstone yadda yadda. The pastor repeatedly exhorted that those unfaithful among the group were to fess up and get right with God, because Grandpa was demanding it of us, et cetera, if we didn't we were crushing him and so on, didn't we want him to enjoy his time in Heaven knowing we were saved. It was like a 20 minute high pressure timeshare-style sales pitch for Jesus.

I pretty much saw red for the rest of the service (as the resident unbeliever) for so blatantly attempting to manipulate us, but I didn't say anything. Turns out a few people brought it up after and were similarly mad, mostly for putting a lot of words in Grandpa's mouth.

[An Gadaí]

Originally Posted by TruCelt

/Tangent Back in the 70's, when overpopulation was always a big topic of discussion, my Grandfather would never fail to chime in that "You could cut the population growth of Ireland in half, just by outlawing Wakes." Flirtation, poker, food, and booze were the order of the evening. And yes, sit up the deceased and pour one for him/her as well!! \tangent

Yeah we waked my dad in our house and it was pretty fucking crazy. Dozens, maybe in the hundreds at one point of people milling about, drinking gallons of tea, trays and trays of sandwiches, and booze of every sort. We laid my dad out in the backroom and during one of the late night vigils my uncle was playing with my sister's dog, throwing the ball for him, the ball bounced and landed up in the coffin beside my dad. It provided much needed comic relief.

[jlzania]

The uncomfortable:
I was at my friend Lisa's mother's viewing. No one was there yet and we were milling around aimless in the hall. The smary funeral director slid up to the group and said "Sister Mary Agnes has just offered to say another whatever- Catholic- nuns -say- for your mother. Lisa, never the most tactful human being on the planet, brayed "Who the fuck is Sister Mary Agnes?" where upon the dumpy drab little woman standing behind the funeral director stepped forward and said "I am, dear." Just another reason to bring back the habit.

The really uncomfortable:
When my mother died, my father elected not to have a service. Instead he wanted to scatter her ashes over the property from the Cessna . He was riding next to the pilot,I was in the back seat.
Now we all know what happens when you throw something out of a car window, right?
There's a good chance it will blow back in.
Which is exactly what happened.
Mom ended up all over the backseat and under my contact lenses.
When we landed, I had tears streaming down my face.
My husband ran over to comfort me and asked what I needed.
He was a little surprised when I answered "The vacuum cleaner please."

[Valgard]

My grandmother's coffin split as it was lowered into the ground and her body rolled out. Her nephew (a great guy) was looking on and said "She couldn't resist looking out to see what all the commotion was about".

We have a fun family.

[cwthree]

The Awkward, because it doesn't really reach the level of Bad: My father's Aunt (my great aunt?) was quite old when she died, and her given name was already old-fashioned when it was bestowed upon her - Lucretia or something like that. We all knew her by her nickname, which was the only name she used as an adult. She hated her given name.

The priest who did the funeral hadn't known her well (if at all). Throughout the service, he referred to Lucretia (or whatever it was). She wasn't in a position to care any more, of course, but the rest of her family didn't appreciate it at all.

[Lacunae Matata]

Originally Posted by Zebra

Was this man her actual father?

Nope. My mom married him seven years after our father died. Us kids were aged 12, 16, and 17 at the time. (Mom later admitted that she had remarried because she thought her children needed a father figure. Turns out, she was wrong...)

[evasgram]

The good: My husband died somewhat unexpectedly 9 months ago at the age of 42. His death devastated me, but at least the funeral was very good. We had him dressed casually, the music (mix of appropriate country and rock) was perfect, and no one would have ever guessed that the minister had never met him. People stood up and said such great things about him, plus they had a nice mix of stories- some funny, some sweet and touching. I really felt surrounded by love for him as well as for me and the kids.

The sweet: My grandpa died 3 months shy of 100. He was very heavily involved with the Boy Scouts for around 70 years. His funeral was attended my men anywhere from their 20's to probably some in their late 80's or so. The majority of them wore at least parts of their scout uniforms to honor him. It was pretty cool.

The weird:
Last winter my ex-father-in-law died. He hadn't been my father-in-law for over 16 years, but I went to the funeral because we had remained friendly and mostly to support my kids (their grandpa). Everyone was not going to go to the cemetery after the service (Michigan winter and all) but my son was going since he was a pall bearer. He was 23 at the time. Well, his uncles, who he rarely sees (probably 2 or 3 times in the last 16 years) come up to him right after the service and ask him, "do you smoke weed YET?". He was like, "uh, no...". The uncles were happy to hear this so that one of their wives, who was pregnant, could ride in the "no weed car" to the cemetery.

[Battle Pope]

Background for this; Small country town. While my dad went off to university, my uncle stayed on & took over the family farm. Uncle’s wife had an affair that everyone except my uncle knew about. When my grandmother found out she told my uncle. For whatever reason uncle & aunt stayed together but she hated my grandmother from that time on for interfering.

When granddad died (about 20 years ago now) he was buried in the family plot in the local cemetery. Around five years later my oldest cousin & his girlfriend were killed in a car crash and he was due to be buried in the family area of the same cemetery.

After the church ceremony we all went to the grave site and that’s when my aunt realised that the layout of the plots would mean my cousin would be buried next to my grandmother when she eventually died (two years ago as it happens – tough old girl).

Well the shit hit the fan, my aunt started causing a huge scene, insisting that no way would her son be buried next to his grandmother etc etc, (remember, this was in front of the entire family including that very same grandmother). It was obvious to everyone but her how much she was upsetting her own husband and her two other kids but she just kept on ranting and being the drama queen.

Until my dad, who is the politest man you would ever meet but by this stage had had a gutful, grabbed her arm, took her a few steps from the graveside and said (not very quietly): “This is not the time you stupid bitch, bury your son with some dignity or fuck off and let us do it.”

Stunned silence, broken only by a few of us trying not to laugh. The priest picked things up and everything proceeded smoothly. Aunt didn’t show up at the family gathering afterwards but quite a few people thanked my dad, including my two other cousins who knew how much he would have loved being buried next to his grandparents.

[Dr. Girlfriend]

The good:

My dad was a huge fan of our local minor-league hockey team. When he passed away my mom was worrying herself sick over what he should be buried in. I said, "Why not his hockey jersey?" Mom thought it was a great idea, and we just ran with the hockey theme. Hockey songs for the music, I have never heard "Zamboni" at a funeral before or since. We even did the flowers in the team's colors. Everyone thought it was perfect.

The bad:

My ex-husband's ex-uncle was killed in a car accident. He was an uncle by marriage, and he was no longer married to my ex's aunt, but he was the father of my ex's two favorite cousins, so we went to the funeral. The minister went on and on and on about how much "Dan" loved his two little daughters. Problem was, Dan had four daughters, the two favorite cousins were his two older, nearly grown daughters. The minister didn't even mention them once during the service, despite the fact that they were sitting right there next to the two little sisters.

[vivalostwages]

My friend L's mom passed away and the family got a minister to do the eulogy. Unfortunately, over the years the minister got a bit shaky--mentally. He made mistakes when referring to family members and then started going on about how the people in the space shuttle (can't remember the name, but everyone on it died) were not going to heaven if they hadn't been saved. This, of course, was not relevant to this funeral.

[Gus Gusterson]

The last funeral I went to was for a friend of my parents. The priest had only just arrived at the parish the day before so he had never met Jim, the dead guy. He picked up a booklet that had a picture of Jim on the front and said, "I saw this picture of Jim at the golf course and I thought, 'Never play golf with an Irishman who wears a hat like that. He'll cheat every time.'"

[Antinor01]

These are both from my Dads funeral back in April.

The bad - I only asked to participate in two parts of the service at the church. I wanted to speak and I wanted to play his favorite hymn on the piano during congregational singing. (It Is Well With My Soul). The pastor refused to let me play because I'm both gay and not Christian. He may be their pastor, but I'll never speak to him again.

The amusing - after the service, they took the casket out to the hearse and we stayed to talk and greet people. I commented that it was so typical. Church was over, dad was out in the car and we were the last to leave because mom was talking to people.

[Anaamika]

I was also just reminded - when my uncle died, his own son, who is/was a drug addict, stole the ceremonial oil meant for the cremation to sell for drug money.

[PunditLisa]

The Good

My friend's father was an Engineer. After he died quite unexpectedly, his son found a file on the desktop of his laptop that was titled, "In case of my death." It included his wishes on where/how he wanted to be disposed of, and a very detailed plan for his funeral mass, including readings and songs. It really made things easier for the family. And it was so fitting because he was such a planner.

He was a big fan of baseball, and believed strongly in an afterlife. We all smiled when he was wheeled out of church to Fogarty's "Put Me In, Coach."

The Awkward
We buried my Granny last week. Her live-in boyfriend, who's 82 and in the early stages of dementia, not to mention stone deaf, attended her visitation. He went up to her casket and started bawling, repeating, "Oh, darlin. I'm going to miss you so much. I love you. I love you."

It was very touching, and everyone got all choked up. Until he leaned over to kiss her.

He rose up quickly and said in a loud voice, "Why is she all cold and hard?"



The Ugly
The granny, who we buried above, was not a nice woman. When her own mother died, she was so "overcome" that she refused to participate in the planning of the funeral. But that didn't stop her from criticizing every plan that her younger sister and niece made. The niece had buried her own beloved mother, granny's sister, a few months prior, and was still in deep mourning. However, she stepped up to help her Aunt when Granny refused to help, because the niece is a lovely, kind person. One of the things they chose was to honor the decendent's wishes and not have a visitation. When my granny got wind of it, she called the niece up and said, "I won't have it. I won't allow you to just throw my mother in the ground like you did yours."

Horrible person. To top it off, she didn't show up for the funeral -- her own mother's funeral. She loved attention and would do anything to get it, even if it meant making an ass out of herself. I know that she was hoping that someone would show up and drag her to it, but we all did what we should have done years ago and ignored her. Ha Ha Ha. Bet that was the longest hour she ever spent, just fixing to having a conniption and make a scene, only to discover that she had no audience. She not only missed the funeral, but the very nice family reunion we had afterwards. Later, she refused to chip in for the funeral expenses.

...So when her boyfriend said, "Why is she so cold and hard?" it was so fitting because he was voicing what we'd all been thinking in our heads.

[Dr. Woo]

The Pathetic: My mother died in the hospital in the middle of the night. As we family members were standing around being sad, the hospital chaplain showed up and wanted to help us grieving folks. Now we're a mixture of believers and atheists, and none of us really wanted this stranger's counsel at the time, but she was really pushing. "Can I say a few words", she asked for the third time and mumbled something about bible passages. To get rid of her (and not go all cranky on her) I suggested the Twenty-third Psalm. I really meant to say the Lord's Prayer because it's short, but I misspoke.

Well, she seemed a little unsure about the Psalm, but started out, then stumbled. She stopped, looked befuddled, and asked "Help me out . . ." So I, the big ol' atheist, went ahead and recited the Psalm (I just knew that Vacation Bible School back in 1959 would come in handy one day) right on through to the goodness and mercy following me all the days of my life part, while my atheist sister damn near swallowed her tongue trying not to laugh.

[lorene]

Originally Posted by Valgard

My grandmother's coffin split as it was lowered into the ground and her body rolled out.

Holy shit.

[InsomniaMama]

I went to two funerals in a short time two summers ago. My eccentric aunt, a big community organizer type, had a beautiful memorial service on a gorgeous day, in the garden courtyard she’d brought about (It was just bare dirt before. Now it has trees, flowers, a vegetable garden, a compost bin, art, picnic tables, etc.). There was a microphone, and people came up and spoke if they felt moved to. Seemed like every person’s story had some variation of “when Jane and I had a big fight about blah blah blah,” which amused me greatly. She was very opinionated. Later there was a potluck with live music and beer and photos from her life.

A few weeks later I went to my mother-in-law’s funeral. Those funeral home things are awful. My father-in-law stood next to her coffin for two days as people dropped in to pay their respects. Yuck. I’m planning on something more like my aunt’s shindig. Maybe without all the “big fights” speeches, though.

[MeanJoe]

The Good:

My step-mother's father passed away and I attended the funeral. It was a lovely viewing and service. Photos of him as a boy, his wedding right before he went overseas in WWII, children and grandchildren. A life well lived and respectfully mourned.

The Bad:

It saddened me that his wife of 50+ years was there and suffering from Alzheimer's. As the funeral was several days after his passing, my step-mother had to tell explain every morning to her that her husband had passed. Heartbreaking.

The Worst:

What really hurts me the most however is that my half-sister (father's daughter) arrived and was just a mess. When I met my father and half-sister for the first time in my late 20's she embraced me as a brother and we bonded very closely. In the subsequent 15+ years, her life went off the rails completely and caused a great deal of pain to many people. She was diagnosed as bipolar and was heavily using prescription drugs illegally to get high all the time. Anyway, I spent time with her outside the funeral home just talking. She was not well at all and I had no idea how to help her anymore. She couldn't focus, couldn't speak coherently cause she was high as a kite on pills, and what conversation we did have was her blaming her dad for everything. I repeated the same offer I had extended so many times in the past - leave this small town, come stay with me (out of state) with your son, and start over. As usual she said she would think about it and then went back to rambling on and on about how everyone blames her for everything, everyone let her down, they're all against her...

I had no idea that a year later I'd be attending her funeral - accidental prescription drug overdose. I miss her, I mourn for such a beautiful young woman and mom whose life ended far to short due to her own actions and personal demons. I hate myself for not knowing/doing more that last time we spoke at the funeral. I never had brothers and sisters growing up and I failed the one I was given later in life.

[wellanuff]

Both of these were at my wife's funeral, and both were my fault.

During the eulogy for my wife, I told a cute story about something she did when we were first dating. Without going into specifics, it was about a silly thing she did and was the result of a cultural misunderstanding, and only a mean-spirited person would think it made her look stupid. However, she had a tremendous amount of pride, so when I jokingly told her at the time that I couldn't wait to tell my family about the cute, silly thing she did (we lived in a different country at that time, so my family hadn't yet had an opportunity to meet her), she let me know in no uncertain terms that I was not to tell anyone. I kept that promise, although I really thought it was a cute thing and nothing to be ashamed of.

Well, it *was* a humorous, cute story and at the funeral I felt I was released from my promise not to tell and I knew that the people in attendance would get a chuckle out of it, so I told the story. I told the story in full, including her admonition that I not tell anyone.

When I told the story at her funeral, I quoted her admonishment to me exactly. I had said, "Oh, that's so cute! I can't wait to tell my family!" My wife said, "Over my dead body!"

Three days later, I realized I had done just that...I had told the story over her dead body. I was mortified to think that people in attendance might have thought that *that* was why I told the story ("Here I am, telling the story over her dead body, hurr, hurr, hurr!"), when I just told the story because it was a cute story and never thought about the literal meaning of "over my dead body."

The second thing was at the cemetery. After the casket was lowered into the concrete liner in the ground, one of the staff whispered in my ear, "Do you want to have everyone leave now, or do you want to wait and watch while they bury the casket?" I imagined a tasteful shoveling of dirt like you might see in the movies, and I didn't want to leave my wife, so I said we would wait while they buried the casket. The staff member went away and then the next thing I know there is a small truck backing up next to the grave site ("beep! beep! beep! beep!") and then a dumping of a cubic yard or two of white gravel into the grave in a swirling cloud of dust. Suddenly, what had been a beautiful, moving funeral had turned into a construction project. After a few moments, I realized "Standing here watching this isn't going to make it any better" and so I finally just walked away with my children and everyone else left, too, I am sure with a great deal of relief.

[Dendarii Dame]

I attended a funeral for my husband's uncle. At graveside, a little child asked, "Is Grandpa in the hope chest?"

[Taomist]

Originally Posted by not what you'd expect

I attended a funeral last year for a guy who was really into deer hunting. All the pictures were of him with dead deer in one shape or another. At one point, the guy doing the eulogy was going on about how Myron was now in heaven with all the dead deer and all the fun they were having. It was so bizarre to me, but nobody else seemed to have a problem with it.

I'm sorry but this cracks me up. It's definitely something my family would say...well, to each other, maybe not on the podium, but still.

[Taomist]

Originally Posted by pbbth

When my great grandmother died her cat, who must have been nearing 18 or 19 years old at that point, curled up next to her and passed away a few minutes later. Both she and her cat were cremated and we got my great grandma's ashes back in a grey plastic box. The cat's ashes came back in a beautiful gold box with her name engraved on the front of it.

After her memorial my cousin leaned over to me and whispered, "When I die make sure to take me to the vet!"

No fair making tears well up and laughter choking at the same time!!

[Anne Neville]

Originally Posted by not what you'd expect

I attended a funeral last year for a guy who was really into deer hunting. All the pictures were of him with dead deer in one shape or another. At one point, the guy doing the eulogy was going on about how Myron was now in heaven with all the dead deer and all the fun they were having. It was so bizarre to me, but nobody else seemed to have a problem with it.

This has got me imagining some deer and deer hunter version of Valhalla. Would they drink mead together after fighting each other? Would the deer get their mead in something like a dog dish?

Originally Posted by MeanJoe

I had no idea that a year later I'd be attending her funeral - accidental prescription drug overdose. I miss her, I mourn for such a beautiful young woman and mom whose life ended far to short due to her own actions and personal demons. I hate myself for not knowing/doing more that last time we spoke at the funeral. I never had brothers and sisters growing up and I failed the one I was given later in life.

No, you didn't fail her. There are lots of people with loving siblings who die of drug overdoses. Just being a good sibling isn't enough to save someone from their personal demons.

[Lynn Bodoni]

It saddened me that his wife of 50+ years was there and suffering from Alzheimer's. As the funeral was several days after his passing, my step-mother had to tell explain every morning to her that her husband had passed. Heartbreaking.

My father died a little over 6 months ago. My mother has Alzheimer's, and they had also been married for over half a century. She does ask about my father, frequently, and we've taken to telling her that he's resting now. If we go through the explanation that he had a heart attack and died, she'll be upset for five minutes, and then she'll ask about him again. If she's told that he's resting, well, that's sort of the truth, and she doesn't get upset. Daddy was always a champion napper, and the thought that he's asleep right now will put her mind at ease.

You might suggest this plan to the relevant people.

[Green Rosetta]

The good: A friend of mine died the day before New Year's Eve of 2010. He had no family and died without any money so, to cover his funeral costs, we did what any true friends would do- put together a good old-fashioned drag queen fundraiser. Our city has quite the drag scene, so many of them volunteered to perform for free and donate all of their tips. Some songs were just pure fun and some were more touching. It was the perfect tribute to him because he was one of the most fun people in the world, and he just really loved karaoke and drag queens. But who doesn't?

The bad: this same friend had been through a lot in the months leading up to his death, including selling half of his very successful DJ-ing business to a friend who then ran it into the ground (which is what lead him to have no money when he died.) This same friend was also his former roommate, who had kicked him out a few months before his death because of his drinking. At his funeral, this "friend" showed up EXTREMELY drunk and proceeded to spend his portion of the eulogy railing at everyone for "demonizing him", sobbing that he was "not a monster" and doing his best to make it known that our DEAD FRIEND had "forced him to do what he did." (We all know each other from theatre, I'm sure it shocks you to know.) It was like being in a movie- dead silence and I swear I heard crickets chirp. I guess I understand wanting to clear your name, but there is certainly a time and a place, and that sure as hell wasn't it.

[etv78]

wellanuff-the second one wasn't your fault. I'd assume how it happens in movies is how it happens IRL too.

[Enlightening Meditation]

The Ugly / Funny

One of my cousins had an altercation with one of my uncles (who was also uncle to that cousin) at my grandmother's visitation. Their scuffle started with some insults then quick punches before other people intervened to separate them. The fight had nothing to do with the funeral or my grandmother....the uncle and cousin had rather disliked one another for years it seems. My aunt (my cousin's mom, my uncle's SIL) lost her composure and bawled crying as she reacted to the fight. I'm not sure what specifically was the catalyst....uncle is a yuppy attorney with a drinking problem and the cousin a hippie with at least some prior drug problems. The mutual disrespect was strong between those two...probably still is. I thought the whole incident was hilarious aside from my aunt being so upset.

The Bad!

At two other funerals of other dead elderly relatives several years apart, the funerals were rather normal and uneventful except that the choir singers were really, really awful. Some of the singers had cough colds at one of the funerals, so that was partially the reason. I really mean awful....I've never heard such awful live music beyond those two funerals. Off key notes, voices cracking, miscues, a cacophony of holy music with unholy timbre. I tried really hard not to laugh and covered my mouth when I knew I couldn't stop myself. I was genuinely sad and mournful at both these events so believe me....that singing had to be really terrible to make giggle. I should have sent thank you cards in hindsight.

[Nava]

Originally Posted by Hypno-Toad

We buried my great uncle Howard at Arlington. This was doubly fitting because he had not only served in Korea and Vietnam, but because he had been one of The Old Guard (3rd US Amry Infantry Regiment) and had spent many years burying soldiers in that very place. In fact, he was being buried by the very same company in which he had served. This mattered a great deal to these men. They were burying one of their own. The ceremony was perfectly executed, which would have pleased him. I've regretted ever since that I did not ask him more about his duties.

It isn't even my goddamn army and... hey fellers, I think the a/c filters need cleaning or something...

[DiosaBellissima]

Originally Posted by Anaamika

At my mother's cremation the priest my mother had hand-selected couldn't remember her name and asked four times.

My friend's husband was the first local casualty during the most recent war in Iraq and, because of that fact, his name and face had been all over the news for the time between his death and funeral. There had to have been several hundred people who came that day- so many that folks were lined up down the steps of the church and into the parking lot, just to show solidarity.

Everyone got the memo. . . except the priest. The priest who didn't correctly say the dead guy's name right even once-- and it wasn't even, like, a pronunciation problem, he was just flat out wrong. The decedent's name was Ramon, but the priest called him Robert throughout the entire service--- even after being corrected several times.



Not a funeral story, but at the baptism of my friend's baby girl, the priest (different than from above) spent the entire thing lecturing about how important it is that we all teach this little baby girl to be chaste, because chastity is the highest virtue and nobody has it anymore.

[Guinastasia]

Originally Posted by oreally

lol

I wonder if they make some device that can block/scramble cell phones? If so I will ensure I leave instructions for these at my funeral. I hate the damn things.




Excuse you?

So honor the deceased's wishes - unless you don't like them, then screw it do whatever you want?

Honor the deceased's wishes. Period. (unless they're totally unreasonable/etc, common sense has to kick in) It isn't about you FYI.

Yes and no. While for the most part, one should honor the deceased's wishes, funerals are for the living -- they're a time to come together and grieve.

(And I know you're joking but yeah, they do make cell phone jammers. You can't buy them though, because they're illegal)

[TokyoBayer]

The good

Unfortunately, I couldn't make it back for my grandmother's funeral, but she died at 99, so everyone said it was a really happy affair. My cousin gave a talk about her "primordial soup", the way she took care of leftovers which should have been buried. She was never a good cook, and never threw away any food, no matter how old. Everyone said it was the highlight.

The Bad

At my father's funeral, the Mormon bishop gave the eulogy, and said of my father that he was "a happy man." Of the tens of thousands of adjectives you could use to describe the man, "happy" would not be one.

The Funny

At my cousin's funeral, after a relative gave a eulogy which only barely touched on his rather colorful life and during the talk his nominal bishop (his mother's bishop since he was "inactive") was going on on and on about how he knew that Tom was going to accept the gospel in the next life, my cousin leans over to me an in a stage whisper, which everyone must have heard, asked "so when are they going to mention the girls?"

The Awkward

The next speaker was a religious teacher for the Mormon church, and the main event. He never mentioned Tom, of course, but spent the whole time talking about how wonderful death was. All my family are Mormons, so they all loved this sort of thing.

Partway through, the same cousin leaned over and in her same stage whisper ask me "So why don't you go to the temple anymore?" Three zillion people all turned and stared at me. Thanks cuz.

The Ugly

When my son died my mother had come over for his birth wanted to have a Mormon funeral. She knows I'm atheist, but she wanted to have the local Mormon church leader come over to conduct the funeral. My wife isn't Christian either and we had never met the Mormon members here. They would simply have given a sermon on life after death so I told her not.

We had a very nice gathering at our house with just some of our closest friends. My wife and I both said a few things. I showed some pictures on our plasma and one of my friend's spoke. So far, so good, and a really nice service so far.

Then my mom decides that it can't be a funeral unless someone preaches, so she launches into the Mormon funeral speech. It's right in the middle of the service, so I don't say anything. Not everyone understands English so one of our Japanese friends does the translation until my mother's speech gets into pure gospel, and this friend can not longer understand what she's talking about. So I wind up having to translate a speech which is meaningless to everyone because my mother can't respect our wishes. Looking back, I wish I had told her to have a separate funeral herself.

[Jenaroph]

Sweetie and his dad went to a funeral this week. The priest forgot to show up. The ceremony started an hour late when he finally arrived.

[Khadaji]

About 20 years ago I went to the funeral of a childhood friend. He and his family were born-again Christians all of his life, so I was expecting a very religious ceremony.

I no longer believe, but I didn't go for the family or for the ceremony, I went to say goodbye to an old friend.

Still, even though I don't believe, I still found this annoying: God must have needed a powerful warrior to have Called J home at this time.

I mean, your idea of God is he kills people because he needs warriors?

Whatever works for you and your grief, but I found it an odd sentiment.