Been to any nice funerals lately?

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

Just got back from one, my husband’s Aunt Geneva, who died at age 88. She was the last of six children, four boys and two girls, including Geneva’s twin sister who died young. She married Uncle Louie in 1943 when he was home on leave from the Army, and they had two sons and a daughter. They’ve produced eight grandkids and sixteen great-grandkids.

I don’t like funerals any more than the next person, but I liked this one. The church pews were padded! Not only that, but we weren’t asked to sing. Instead we had three hymns from a local guy who looked and sounded like he belonged in 1880, and it was charming. The minister was a woman with a lovely speaking voice. She read some appropriate Bible verses and led some short prayers.

Best of all, the minister actually knew Aunt Geneva and was able to relate some funny stories. She talked about how Geneva was forever baking cookies, even though she’d lost an arm in a farm accident. And she talked about how when she wasn’t working in the house, she’d be in the field with her husband, keeping him company and watching him work. She said she asked Louie to describe Geneva, and all Louie could say was that she was “perfect”. :slight_smile:

One of the grandchildren (an Army master sergeant back from Iraq) spoke for several minutes about his grandma, how she was always interested in what everyone was doing, always had to feed you and if you didn’t eat enough, would ask if you didn’t like her cooking. He talked about how he’d bring his friends from the city out to grandma and grandpa’s farm, do hayrides, tease the pigs and chickens.

It was sad, looking at Uncle Louie, who’s lost the woman who’s been with him for 64 years. He just had cancer surgery, and everyone said Geneva waited to die until she knew he was okay. But not sad, because it was obvious that the younger people in the family weren’t going to forget about him.

I don’t think there will be many more funerals like this one, anywhere. The generations of women who worked on farms, were active in their church, kept house, welcomed grandkids and great grandkids – there aren’t many left. Ministers and friends will say different things when my generation starts to leave. There will be nice things to say about us, but they’ll be different.

Anyway, it was a darn nice funeral.

2

I sang at one on Wednesday. It was for an elderly lady of the parish. She didn’t have much family, but quite a few parishioners were there, and most of the choir. We gave her a lovely requiem.

3

It was about a year and a half ago, but I went to the funeral of one of my good friend’s mom. I had met her but, since she was well into dementia and in a nursing home, I never really knew her.

About six months before she died, my friend sold her house – the house he’d grown up in – and he’d asked me if I’d help with the final cleaning out of stuff. What a revelation THAT was! This woman was a grand old lefty, if ever there was one. Stacks and stacks of old issues of Organic Gardening, Mother Earth News, and the like. My friend came across fabric he’d sent her from England 30 years ago. She’d kept it all those years, apparently never finding a pattern wonderful enough to justify using it. I caught so many glimpses of this woman who’d shaped my friend’s character.

At her funeral, I heard such wonderful stories about her – her exploits on a speed boat at age 70+, etc. There was the typical display of family photos, and she looked so lively and interesting in them – acting silly with the grandkids, that sort of thing.

It made me sad that I had not had the privilege of knowing her in her prime. At the same time, it was wonderful to attend such a heartfelt commemoration of a life well lived.

4

It wasn’t recently, but my mother-in-law’s ceremony was wonderful. The minister knew her well, and he said he was sure Eleanor was already reorganizing the choir in Heaven and sharing recipes with the kitchen ladies. There were separate short talks representing her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. She left a wide swath of love and kindness. :slight_smile:

5

Your Eleanor must have been something like my cousin Karen. The minister joked that Karen was probably standing at the mortician’s shoulder saying “My hair’s not right! I don’t wear lipstick!” and then giving him a hug and telling him he did a fine job.

6

Last spring a friend died, and at his funeral it was amazing to see people appear from all over, people I’d not thought of in years, standing and offering their happy and fond memories.

7

I was told I put together a good memorial/funeral for my father in law. In addition to the words of remembrance, I had a dvd made with 30 minutes of pictures throughout his life set to his favorite music. It was not sad but uplifting and humorous. We then had his granddaughter (my daughter) release a box of butterflies outside of the funeral home. One of them flew right over to my (ex) husband and landed on his sleeve. It stayed with him until the service was over and then flew away. That moment was such a source of comfort for him knowing that butterflies don’t usually do that, he felt his father was with him.

It was a little odd having mourners tell me it was the best memorial they had ever attended but I am glad I was able to do my father in laws final goodbye justice.

8

My grandmother’s was a nice funeral–that was about two months ago. We did sing a few verses of hymns known to be beloved by my grandmother. The minister didn’t know her well (new to the church in July, Grandma died end of August) but got some good stories from my mom and her siblings. And the minister had talked to Grandma a fair amount during August–when Grandma was hospitalized.

It was also a nice funeral because it was only about 30 minutes in length. Then we loaded into cars and drove to the cemetary–not a long distance away. One stoplight. But we did have a police officer directing traffic at it.

I also had to chuckle at the pallbearers–I think we had almost a foot of height difference between Cousin N at one end and Cousin D at the other. Nice wedge shape.

And then we went back to the church, ate food prepared by Grandma’s friends, and chatted for a while.

9

Last month I went to the funeral of “Ella” a friend of my parents. This woman was involved in everything, from church clubs, to the lunch room of a local school, her granddaughters ringette team, local charities. She died on a road trip with some women friends to a lodge meeting in a near by town. (Just died in her sleep, after doing something she loved…so few people get to do that.)

Here’s just my own small slice of what a generous woman she was. When I returned to town four years ago with 10 dollars to my name, 7 months pregnant and with only a dufflebags worth of stuff, she started collecting baby gear for me, and hand made several lovely items. A set of dishes and pots and pans went along with it.

At this funeral there were babies in arms and a 102 year old member of her lodge. Lots of school children who had been in her lunch room, or played on the ringette team. Teens were there, people in their twenties who had worked in the family restaurant. People in their 30’s and 40s who were friends of her sons… and so on up the ages. Until this funeral (standing room only at the back by the time I got there 10 mins before the service started…) the next best attended funeral I had ever been to was her husband’s three years ago.

The service itself was short and sweet, with stories by her sons and grandchildren, a nice
eulogy also by the minister, and a special memorial by her lodge.

Yes, she was my “mom’s friend” but really, she was the whole city’s friend.

10

Nice funerals?

That’s a bit like saying “Been to any great book burnings of recent?”

11

All depends on how you view them. Funerals are more intended for the living, rather than the dead. I don’t like going to funerals generally, and there have been one or two where I felt like bolting far away from the service where the deceased was someone I knew and liked a lot. But I’ve been to some cool ones where the focus was on the reaffirmation of life rather than a focus on loss.

As I’m not religious, being invited to funerals held under different traditions has been interesting for me. A Catholic one I went to last year or so was quite beautiful. I’m glad I attended, and was there to support a friend.

12

Not really. I went to a funeral a few years ago, and the minister treated it like an opportunity to bring new members to the church. He read a short paragraph giving the bare bones of this guy’s life and then launched into a long sermon about hellfire and damnation.

If the casket hadn’t been up front, I would have thought I was at a revival meeting. That’s a bad funeral.

13

Maybe you haven’t been to any bad ones. Like the one I went to about 15 years ago, where the priest not only called the mother of the deceased by the wrong name, repeatedly, but also the deceased!

A good funeral is a true blessing. I am proud of the one we gave for my sister. We all stood to say what Leigh had meant to us. Her friends gave tributes and the music was wonderful. Funerals are for the living, and I can say that this one and another I attended way back in college in rural Iowa*–these ceremonies truly comforted those left.

  • the vet of a very small town died 22 days after being diagnosed with a type of cancer. 8 kids, one of whom was in my nursing program. They gathered around his deathbed and sang the Lord’s Prayer as he died. The funeral was Catholic, but the whole town turned out to pay their respects. It was very uplifting.
14

Sounds like my maternal grandmother’s funeral! Mom wouldn’t have even had a funeral, but we kids insisted. My Freewill Baptist minister/brother-in-law (who, we learned later, was a drug-addicted sociopath, but that’s a story for another thread) was pressed into service for the funeral. My other sister (not the one married to him) was in the midst of a rancorous divorce. In the course of the service, attended by the immediate family only (maybe 10 people total) my B-I-L asked that we all pray for those among us who were adulterous. As we learned later, he should have included himself in the adulterous group.

That was a bad funeral, too!

15

My father’s funeral was lovely. A celebration of his life. the whole parish came, friends and collegues came from all over the country. The music was good, the readings, too. Our priest had known him for years. One architect spoke - she’d worked for him many years ago. He saved her from being fired when she was spiraling out of control with alcoholism, mentored her through becoming an architect, and taught her how to manage a project from the ground up. We had friends from when we were in High School, 25 years before, come from Michigan to Tennessee to say goodbye to someone who was like a father to them, too. It wasn’t a weeping and mourning time, it was a party to celebrate passing into a new life.

StG

16

I’ve been to my fair share of funerals, both parents, some old friends, workmates and so on.

In my experience no funeral is a nice one, we are saying goodbye to people we loved and cared for and who we’ll never see again.

Maybe the funeral service is nice enough but the actual funeral is a sad affair

17

My neighbor’s grandfather died a couple of years ago. He was about 90 years old. I didn’t know him, but went to help with their very young baby and other kids, whom the relatives wanted to see, but the mama wanted to make sure didn’t disrupt the entire funeral. After the regular funeral service and a light lunch at the church, the minister passed around a microphone and people told stories about him. Some of the stories were touching, and some of them were hilarious. We heard about his values and talents, and about his flaws and idiosyncracies, too. His kids and grandkids sat there and laughed and cried.

I went home and told my husband about it, and we decided that’s the kind of funeral we’d like, where people actually remember and talk about us. And hopefully, start the healing process.

18

I used to think that, especially when I attended church services where the vicar clearly didn’t know the deceased and you had to concentrate on following the church ritual.

Just before my Mum died last year, she planned her own funeral. It was a celebration of her life, not a gloomy affair.

It consisted of music she’d liked interspersed with a few speakers who had known her. The mourners didn’t have to do anything except listen. At one point there was laughter* and it finished with ‘When the Saints go marching in’.
Afterwards I was told by many that it had actually been a pleasant experience. :slight_smile:
*After she’d explained things my Mum asked me to run through her plans. When I’d finished, she said “that sounds lovely - I wish I could be there!”
I told this anecdote at the funeral.

19

I suppose one sort of good funeral I went to was when a pal of mine died.
His name was Peter Ball and as the coffin slowly wheeled into the flames over the PA system was belted out “Great Balls of Fire”

Seems he had asked for this to be played as part of his will.

Another time, another funeral, a friend said “Dave would have liked it” “Course he would, he’d still be alive you berk”

20

My cousin’s, last month. He died shortly after his 19th birthday in a motorcycle accident. The church was packed. Family, friends and groupies. No hymens. Just some of his favorite songs. And then a song by his own band. My cousin had great talent, even if I do say so myself.

Nice service. But I’ll never be able to forget the sound of his little sister’s sobs when the hearse pulled up.