Funerals

I went to a funeral service this morning.  I was dreading it for so many reasons. This was the funeral of a young man;a terrible loss that came totally out of the blue.  When someone is old, or very ill it is easier to reconcile their death in your head, if not your heart.  He was just... gone.  We went to support his mother and his step mother who are both friends.  I do not know and don't think I ever really care to meet his father.

Funeral services are supposed to be cathartic.  I grew up with the ritual of Catholic funeral services and the comforting liturgy of the Protestant service.  I knew I was in trouble when the minister waved his obviously ancient Bible in the air and told us he was going to read from the Word Of God. (in my mind he was speaking in capital letters)  Great. He chose verses that were not comforting, but more "Come to Jesus- or else"  He did default to the 23rd Psalm, but there is so much more that could have been of comfort, but that stuff is in the Old Testament, and this was more about  threatening you with damnation unless you accepted Jesus than any words of peace in the heart.  It reminded me why I don't follow any organized religion.  I just don't get anything from it.  Now, I have friends who go to church regularly and one who is a minister.  I am sure that they get something from it and I am not saying that going to church is a bad thing IF it does something for you.  It just made me mad.  There was very little said by the minister of the boy whose services he was conducting, although he did read a long and frankly annoying letter that was supposed to have come from his teacher. In it, the teacher went on and on in praise of the boy's FATHER while mentioning what a good student the boy was and how the teacher would always remember him.  In retrospect, I believe the letter was sent by the teacher to comfort the father privately, to assure him that he had been a good father, but it rang hollow if it were meant to honor the boy. .His best friend managed to get through a beautiful eulogy without crying.  There was a memorial video, which included no pictures of his still-living and present- in -the- boys- life mother.  She was not mentioned once. It was as if the child sprung fully realized from his father's forehead or the mother were dead.  It would have been nice to have included her in those mentioned.   I left the service feeling empty and not resolved or healed in any way.  I should have been.

Chris and I went to Dave and Busters and had lunch and played video games.  We talked about memories of the child whose services we had just left and thought that this was a fitting way to honor his memory.  I try to remember the phase from "Elegy for JFK"  "what he was, he was.  What he is fated to become, depends on us.  Remembering his death, how we choose to live will decide its' meaning".   So Ian, I hope your friends will laugh more and care for each other and always remember you and that those who love you and always  will continue to get stronger in your memory, to make you proud of them somehow even if you are not in this realm to see it.