I delivered the eulogy at my grandfather’s funeral last year. Of course, I had surgery the day he died, and then got whapped with a big old cold and lost my voice. At the viewing old ladies kept grabbing my hand-- and I’m yelping ‘ouch, leggo of the damn bandages’. Then I get to creak my way through a speech. Three people came up to me afterwards and said they were really moved by the emotion in my voice-- I didn’t have the heart to tell them otherwise.
Thank you Coldfire, I didn’t mean to appear to do the “I can top that thing”. The gift of life is almost universally valued, and for the most part we feel such a reverence for it. Every roll at a funeral is heartwrenching, bittersweet and difficult to perform with decorum and dignity. The OP is an interesting one. I disagree with the idea that discussing roles (and our feelings about them) at a funeral is morbid, death is a fact of life and I hope folks with continue to post their experiences and feelings about them here.
The screen saver and pc sharing cancer research function is very interesting and it’s a great way to “do something” without having to do much, it feels good to be helping. On a side note, frogstein started a SDMB team. I suspect that being on the SDMB team has a great deal of appeal here. However, anyone is welcome to join team Huggy Bear. [sub]Which by the way is not signed up for gifts or prizes at this time, and if I do they’ll be donated to the local childhood cancer family alliance.[/sub]
Abby
Pallbearer at my paternal grandmother’s funeral in January 2000. It was the only funeral I’ve ever been a participant in, and it was very disquieting.
Sorry for yet another post, but I realized I left out a link I wanted to put in the above post. The first time I came to the SDMB there were two interesting threads going related to mourning. One was when JillGat’s mom died. I’m not posting a link to that one here because I’m fearful resurrecting it might be painful to her, but it’s an interesting thread to see how many people in this community responded with support, affection and kindness. The other threadHow We Mourn I thought to be started with empathy, respect and a valid and interesting societial question as well.
Abby
[sub]P.S. To the kind but nicknameless doper who emailed me, (and any other observant potential viewer) I am aware the pic’s are bungled on my homepage. It’s my first attempt and it appears the pic’s are there when I go to edit and review, but not when you view the page normally. I lack the skills and knowledge to fix it, but didn’t want to take the page down either. So it hangs out there for all the world to see my ineptitude at web page design.[/sub]
I started dating a girl right before her grandmother died, so I went to the funeral…only the second I had ever been to. After the funeral, her mother (whom I had never met) comes over and says: “Is this Mike? He looks strong…will he be a pall-bearer?” I had never met any of her family, much less the deceased grandmother…but how could I say no?!
–==the sax man==–
**
I buried my Great Uncle after he died of cancer. And when I say buried I mean I literally took a shovel and dug a grave for him. There’s a rather old Gibson Cemetary on some farmland in Texas dating back to the 1850’s. Suffice it to say it is on someone else’s property now and nobody takes care of it. So I took my uncle there and buried him next to his mother as per his wishes.
I don’t know the legality of what I did but the owners don’t mind Gibsons visiting the site or burying people there.
**
I have never seen a female pallbearer and this is the first I’ve ever heard of one. Not that there’s anything wrong with it I just hadn’t heard of it.
Marc
[[One was when JillGat’s mom died. I’m not posting a link to that one here because I’m fearful resurrecting it might be painful to her…]]
Not at all! I miss her, but she had a glorious life and being there for and with her while she died is a memory I treasure. - Jill
My father died rather quickly an unexpectedly and I was the only one around when it happened. Although it isn’t the most pleasant memory I have I am certainly happy he wasn’t alone at the end.
Marc
I’ve been a pallbearer a few times. Recently my uncle’s second wife (26 years, their marriage seemed like only yesterday) died. They were a very private couple and few friends and family came. My parents, 15 years younger than aunt and uncle, had helped take care of my aunt during her last illness. They let me (and bro and sis) know that there was no prepared eulogy, but that we should each say some words. Of course since they were so private we did not know our aunt well. (One of the great pains of my father’s life is that he does not know his brother better as he is old enough to be a father figure. Uncle having served in combat in WWII and Dad in combat in Korea, they have the emotional reserve of the pre-boomers.)
To make this more difficult, they were very much in love, and this was the second time my uncle had been widowed after a long marriage. What to say?
It turned out surprisingly simple. I remembered that we were there for the living and to help my uncle. Simply sharing memories of family gatherings, similing while playing the piano during holiday sing alongs, their fun and playing golf and tennis together. Ordinarily I do not worry at all about speaking in front of a group, but I was concerned here. I spoke for less than 90 seconds, and even though as a trial lawyer I speak in public frequently, just these simple memories simply expressed was what was called for on the occasion. So if you get asked to say something at a memorial, my suggestion is to remember even a small pleasant event that the deceased participated in that made things easier for others, take your time and remember out loud that event for a moment or two.
I spent eighteen days at the hospital with my father (my mother died twelve years prior) as his life slipped away at age 82. He had already arrange power of attorney, executor, etc to be me, because he felt my siblings were not reliable (true: one didn’t even come to the service).
While he was still conscious, I met his friend Shirley and her husband for the time. He thought the world of her, and so do I.
I had to make the middle of the night decision to pull the life support. I slept in a chair beside his bed the entire time. Shirley would stop in ever morning on her way to work with a pot of coffee. She’d also stop by later in the evening so I could get away for a bit.
After he died, the entire funeral arrangement came down to me. Very difficult, and when it came time for a speaker, I completely choked. Shirley stepped in for me.
Even at 46 my eyes get all watery as I write this.
His ashes were buried six months later in the public plot at the cemetary, as he requested.
My mother was buried two years after she died. Her lifelong desire was to donate her body to the medical school at the local university.
All four services were gutwrenching.
I was a Pallbearer for my grandmother’s funeral about 10 years ago. And what a shitty experience on many levels that was.
First, my cousin teases me on my “choice” of attire. “What are those, “Dockers”?!”
Because what’s really important at a funeral is that you own the right pants.
Then they ask me to be a Pallbearer at the viewing to the church.
Fine. I’d be honored.
So me and my asshole cousins patiently wait for the rest of the family to leave.
And then we spring into action! And this is what throws me.
As soon as the doors close, we start packing up the flowers and Grandma like we’re roadies at an Ozzy show. It becomes a matter of efficiency and speed at this point. Something not foremost in my mind at a funeral. I can understand the importance of gettting the casket to the church ASAP. But lest us forget, who’s IN said box.
The was the last time I ever want to be a part of anything like that. So friends and family, you’ve been warned- NO DYING. OK?