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

In My Humble Opinion
81

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.” :slight_smile: 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?”

:eek:

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.

82

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.

83

Holy shit. :eek:

84

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. :slight_smile:

85

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.

86

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.

87

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

88

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

89

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

90

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?

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.

91

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.

92

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? :stuck_out_tongue:

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.

93

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

94

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.

95

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

96

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.

97

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)

98

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.

99

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.

100

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.