A very strange woman. And an extremely bizarre reaction to your sharing your information with her.
Like others have said, I wouldn’t give her another thought.
I have to concur with tomndebb’s take on funerals. They’re not for the dead. The dead don’t care at this point. They’re either no longer among us or gone to a better place, depending on your metaphysics. Funerals (and the attendant foofaraw) are for the living.
It’s a viewpoint that I never even thought about before my father died 2 years ago. Watching my mother turn from a frighteningly falling-apart mess into someone who was very close to her old self (as she was two days before) as the long line of mourners passed by the casket and spoke to her about how my father had made their lives just a little better, I realized exactly who the funerary ceremonies are for. I mean, my Og! I didn’t even know my dad KNEW that many people. I’m pretty sure she didn’t either. And every one of them was affected in some positive way by knowing my father…something none of us survivors would probably ever have known without the tragedy of losing him. It’s incredible.
I still have two of the potted plants from his funeral that I’m particularly proud of, because I’ve managed to keep them alive for over two years now. It’s like still having part of my dad around.
When my Grandfather died in 97 they had a party after the funeral mass. It was part of his wishes, he wanted everyone to be happy that he’d gone to a better place.
My other Grandpa didn’t have anything. There was no funeral or memorial or anything. I kind of wish there had been one, but it wasn’t what he wanted so we didn’t.
“Occasionally, one may see a woman at a funeral even more droopily festooned in black than the widow. This is known as a Fashion Statement.” - Miss Manners
I dressed up for my grandad’s funeral. In day to day life I am a jeans and tshirt kinda girl. I don’t worry about what I wear, and I barely notice how others dress.
Every time I saw my grandad he would remark on how good I was looking, or how pretty I was. He was always nice about other stuff too like school, but it was his belief that every female was beautiful and should be told so.
So at his funeral I made sure I took extra care with my apearance, because it mattered to him.
If dressing up for the funeral made you feel better, than thats what you should have done. When I’ve been to funeral’s I deffinately did not worry about what anyone who was not there would think. I did give some consideration to the thoughs of those closer to the deceased than I.
When my grandmother died, I was yelled at by a coworker for saying it was a good thing. My grandmothers quality of life had decreased to zero. She was not happy, everyone in the family could feel it. Her passing, while still sad, was a very good thing.
You did a wonderful gesture dressing up for your Grandmother.
Ignore the cow-orker. she’ is a buffoon.
Now for my funeral, everyone is expected to attend in hawaiian shirts or their favorite concert shirt. Comfort is mandatory. Clown costumes will be highly encouraged.
“Uh huh. When you die, I’m showing up in a clown suit.”
Whatever, lady. (Uh, not you - the weirdo co-worker lady…)
When my grandmother died, all the ladies went out shopping for new dresses. On the day of the funeral, we had our hair done together.
While missing my grandmother, it was a wonderful opportunity to be together with the ladies of the family, remembering my grandmother, who was an absolute riot btw!
Love ya, Nan! Always. 