Funeral, 往生

Today I went to a Funeral. This was the first funeral I’ve attended in quite some time, and I find it quite hard to straighten out all of the thoughts running through my head, so excuse me if I sound ignorant(because I am) and/or have bad writing.

I’m not sad, nor depressed, Funerals, strangely have no real effect on me. I’ve never cried at one nor felt sad. I believe the one thing that I don’t like at funerals is perhaps seeing all of my relatives cry. This reminds me, perhaps I should give a background on my relatives. My fathers side come from poor farmer class, and not many of them have kept healthy life styles. They are all very rugged, Cowboy Culture, Country Music loving people. This isn’t my style of life, and I’ve never quite liked it myself; but they have always been loving accepting people. Even though every time I see them I don’t feel quite like I fit in with them, they try their best to make me feel like a part of the family (I’m one of the youngest generations of the family). I take inspiration in the amount of care all these relatives have for each other.

Every year there has been a grand get together at Thanksgiving. We all eat together and share experiences and aspirations. Then as the day fades they pull out cards and change then enjoy various games such as Poker, or Texas-Hold-’Em. At this yearly event I’ve seen the Man who’s funeral I attended every year. He was my Grandfather’s Brother-in -Law. From the little I knew and experienced of him, he was a nice man, always warm and generally interested in the workings of your life. From what I know, he didn’t died in pain, but simply declined; “He Looked the same from when we got there, to when he passed”, my Step-Grand-Mother told me.

Yet I look at everyone around me, and I’m just confused as to why they cry. I know this sounds ignorant, because it is. I haven’t spent a lifetime with any of these people, I’ve just seen then occasionally. they have every right to feel how they feel, and I will try my best to comfort. So a few questions fill my head.. Why doesn’t death bother me and never has? Why didn’t I feel hurt when both my grandmothers passed? Why do I feel glad for that person who has died? Why don’t I feel scared?

The Funeral Ceremony brought up questions also. I walked the halls of this mortuary seeing pictures and plaques of people who have died, and I will never know; and soon in a generation or two no one will remember that person being alive, or know them at all. So what is the point of having all of these rituals associated to death. making plaques, gravestones, photo albums (Boxes labeled “Soandso’s Life” which are sitting in my garage and no one will ever go through). I think I’d rather people forget about me instantly and go on with their life, than cling on to the idea of me until they eventually forget and time moves on.

A good friend recently told me that when she dies, she wants to be buried on a hill, and a tree planted over her. I must say that sounds perfect. Put me in the ground, and plant a Willow Tree over me. I accept that this life is short. I accept that time passes on and will continue to do so for quite some time. I accept that people forget.

Advertisement