This is a kind of morbid question, but have you ever had a part to play at a funeral? You know, pallbearer or the one to give the eulogy.
I was a pallbearer right before I turned seventeen at my great-grandmother’s funeral. It was about ten degrees outside, and I had on panty hose and a thin pants suit on. I also had my tacky bright red Kansas City Chiefs coat on, which was very noticiable among the black (hate the Chiefs, but it’s a nice warm coat). Plus, I had dress shoes on and I had to walk on pieces of ice and snow at times. I was the only female pallbearer; the others were my two cousins, my two uncles, and my father. I was also extremley nervous. I was afraid I’d drop the casket, but that turned out to be impossible because everyone else held it up and I basically held onto it.
At my aunt’s funeral-I was also her godchild, along with my cousin Brian-we had to take the gifts up to the altar at Mass. (For those who aren’t Catholic, the gifts are the hosts and the wine for Communion, so that the priest can then consecrate them.)
I was a pallbearer at my paternal grandfather’s funeral in 1992 and then again for my maternal grandfather last August. Also, I gave a reading during his funeral mass.
I was a pall bearer at my brothers funeral and I and several others gave eulogies. Also at the grave site we actually burried him. Several of his friends brought shovels and we all pitched in and burried him.
My dad had a military funeral so I wasn’t a pall bearer or do anything special there.
I was a member of the Brooks AFB Honor Guard. I was pallbearer at many funerals, as well as flag-folder, flag presenter, and on the firing line for the 21-gun salute.
I was a pall bearer at my grandmother’s funeral this year, but it was much harder to be a reader at the funeral Mass for my mother eight years earlier.
I’m over 40, so I’ve inevitably had more personal experience than most younger people.
When I was younger, I was Catholic, and when I was 8 I was an altar boy for my grandmother’s funeral. As an altar boy I participated in the funerals of many non-relatives.
Pallbearer for the mother of my best friend.
Pallbearer for my own father and mother. I also sang a couple of my father’s favorite songs at his funeral service.
Pallbearer for my younger sister (who was 19). She was the first member of my family to die. That was hard.
bean_shadow, your OP is so simlilar to my experience as a pallbearer! Very odd…
I was a pallbearer for my great-grandma as well. I was 15 at the time. They (my grand-uncles and the priest) had asked me to read at the funeral. I told them that I absolutely would not. I was such a wreck when she died. I was afraid that I would collapse in heaving sobs during my reading. So my mom asked my dad if it would be “appropriate” to have a female pallbearer. He checked with the priest, who said there was no problem. My uncles were very touched, although the idea of a female pallbearer seemed to be odd to them. I was really nervous, but all went well. I should say, it went well until the service at the cemetery. Then I totally lost control. But by that time, my duty had been done. I am still very proud that I was able to do that for her.
I was one of multiple pallbearers at my grandmother’s funeral 8 days after I graduated from college.
Every time the we had to move the casket, the pallbearers managed to change, not intentionally either, but by the end of the funeral, most of the grandchildren had taken part at some point-down to the youngest, who was 8 at the time.
Actually, I spoke for my sister and our side of the family. My brother-in-law’s sister spoke for his side.
I almost made it through until I got to the part about Craig having two mothers-my sister and me.
[sub]Craigy-poo, I miss you. ALways remember that Ya-ya loves you THIS much[/sub]
Not much happens at my family’s funerals except the actual church service: no eulogies, nothing elaborate, nothing dramatic. My father has usually always been in charge of organizing funeral stuff; and he’s always a pallbearer too.
My sister and I do our part at the viewings before the funeral (greeting and introducing people), and reception after the funeral (more hostess-y stuff).
Mother of the deceased. As if the whole leukemia thing and watching him suffer and die wasn’t bad enough, thirty six inch long caskets while ample for a toddler are shockingly small when seen in the front of a chapel.
Abby, I’m so sorry.
Not to even TRY to make a comparison between all the stories above (because all are touching and sad in their own right), but losing a child… that somehow strikes me as one of the toughest things that can possibly happen to a person.
I clicked on your homepage. Your son looks fantastic, I’m sure he was a great kid. I’m gonna download that screen saver tonight.
Pallbearer at my grandmother’s funeral in 1993. I would have been one at my dad’s this past winter, but he had retired from the fire department, and they requested to provide the pallbearers instead. And I was going to speak at an ex-girlfriend’s funeral, but I was too broken up. I couldn’t do it.
Yeah, it was odd to be, too. But the thing is, is that I’m the only female in my generation (my great-grandmother, who had died, was married into the family). My family is weird because there have been only four females since 1900. I would die if I had to read something, but that moment hasn’t arrived yet.
