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Weird topic, I know; but just curious. I have friends that go to many funerals--for example, one went to a coworker's funeral and they barely knew the coworker and didn't know the family. I have other friends that only go if they absolutely have to.
Is there some type of protocol that you follow?
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No, but there is a very funny skit about an older guy who goes to funerals to pick up women.
This is definitely a "suit yourself" situation.
I have gone to all family funerals, so far. Some involved travel.
I have gone to all co-worker funerals when I lived back there. Probably would not go back now.
I have traveled back up north for the funeral for a dear friend.
Going to a funeral is an extremely private decision and nobody has the right to tell you that you must attend a certain person's funeral. I didn't even attend my own mother's funeral even though I dearly loved her. Some people just can't do funerals and shouldn't be judged negatively. It's nobody's business but their own.
No, but there is a very funny skit about an older guy who goes to funerals to pick up women.
This is definitely a "suit yourself" situation.
I have gone to all family funerals, so far. Some involved travel.
I have gone to all co-worker funerals when I lived back there. Probably would not go back now.
I have traveled back up north for the funeral for a dear friend.
Reminds me a Two and Half Men program where the boys mother the real estate agent went to them to give out her business card to the ones left behind. This was too funny, gotta find humor in everything.
I don't do funerals. I've told my mom, my relatives, and my friends to not expect me at any, not even theirs. I think funerals are sort of barbaric. What's the point?
That's using awfully noble language to mask what is profound self-centeredness. What about the parent of a close friend? Or the brother of someone close to you? Or the spouse of a co-worker?
Funerals are less about the person being buried and more about providing support and comfort to the survivors of the deceased. Your presence demonstrates that, in some way, that person or his survivors matter to you.
I go to the funeral. I certainly don't enjoy going, but I go nonetheless because it matters. And some pubescent nihilistic theory about barbaric funeral practices just rings hollow at that moment that someone you know and care for experiences grief and loss. When my father died suddenly when I was twenty-two, it was a catastrophe for my family. And I was shocked at some of my supposed friends who simply ghosted until a week after the funeral, coming up with similar lame kinds of rationales. I quietly cut them from my life. Because if you can't stand beside your friend on one of the worst days of his life, you aren't much of a friend at all.
Conversely, by telling your mom--your freaking mother--that you can't be bothered to attend her funeral, you're saying that her life is not really worth noting. You know, the woman who carried you, changed your diapers, fed you, clothed you, sat by your bedside when you were sick, attended soccer games faithfully, and on and on and on. And you can't spare an hour or two to commemorate her passing. Jeez, I bet she's proud to have you as a son.
Grow up. It's not all about you all the time.
Last edited by MinivanDriver; 10-23-2017 at 02:20 PM..
I don't remember all the names of the people who came to my dad and then my mom's funerals. I don't remember what each said. But I do remember the volume of people, and that each had made an effort to cone out, whether it was the visitation or funeral, or both. At least 6 former coworkers came to my dad's funeral,but only one did I not know. He said to me "Your father was a tremendous man; I respected him greatly." Complete stranger, yet I carry his words 7 years later. He didn't gave to come, but the fact that he did, and the few words he uttered stand out from anything else said to me.
Truth is, most of us don't like funerals/visitations, Death makes us sad and/or uncomfortable. But you never know what that 20 second conversation and acknowledgement of a life lost will mean to the bereaved.
I missed a funeral for a grandparent when I was younger. It would have involved traveling a considerable distance and I'd just gotten back from a long car trip. I felt bad about missing it but paid my respects in other ways. Some of my family never forgot that I didn't attend this funeral. People do hold grudges. This even came up many years later in my family. Sometimes, people die suddenly and there is no way to plan or prepare for traveling to attend a funeral. My own mom died a few years ago, and I totally understood not everyone in her family could be there. No grudges here.
The first funeral that I recall was of the last of my maternal great aunts. It was an old-time Irish Catholic funeral, the only one I ever witnessed. The wake was at her home where she had lived with her daughter and her family, husband and two girls. The body was in the living room; the drinks were in the dining room. As we were getting ready to leave a group of women came in. They were professional mourners who were there to perform the Irish wail or Irish cry. They began to wail in a pitiful but strangely beautiful way. My parents, grandmother (it was her sister), and various other relatives all moved the door. They were modern people who didn't approve of the old ways. One of my aunts said that it gave her chills through her whole body. My grandmother, her last and youngest sibling, simply scoffed. Years later, my second cousin told me that she'd had nightmares afterward. She couldn't have been more than six or seven at the time. I doubt that my grandmother appreciated my asking her if we could have her wake at our house when she died. I believe that I was about six.
The day of the funeral we all gathered at the church waiting for the body. We didn't enter the church until the pall bearers had taken the body in. The rest of the funeral was very ordinary. Afterwards, there was a luncheon at a pleasant restaurant. I remember how the atmosphere seemed to suddenly change from sad to joyful. It was a family reunion in a minor sort of way.
I referred the funeral and wake as Irish Catholic, but there was nothing Catholic about the professional mourners who were crooning to the spirits of the dead.
This funeral took place just before 1950.
Last edited by Happy in Wyoming; 10-23-2017 at 03:11 PM..
That's using awfully noble language to mask what is profound self-centeredness. What about the parent of a close friend? Or the brother of someone close to you? Or the spouse of a co-worker?
Funerals are less about the person being buried and more about providing support and comfort to the survivors of the deceased. Your presence demonstrates that, in some way, that person or his survivors matter to you.
I go to the funeral. I certainly don't enjoy going, but I go nonetheless because it matters. And some pubescent nihilistic theory about barbaric funeral practices just rings hollow at that moment that someone you know and care for experiences grief and loss. When my father died suddenly when I was twenty-two, it was a catastrophe for my family. And I was shocked at some of my supposed friends who simply ghosted until a week after the funeral, coming up with similar lame kinds of rationales. I quietly cut them from my life. Because if you can't stand beside your friend on one of the worst days of his life, you aren't much of a friend at all.
Conversely, by telling your mom--your freaking mother--that you can't be bothered to attend her funeral, you're saying that her life is not really worth noting. You know, the woman who carried you, changed your diapers, fed you, clothed you, sat by your bedside when you were sick, attended soccer games faithfully, and on and on and on. And you can't spare an hour or two to commemorate her passing. Jeez, I bet she's proud to have you as a son.
Grow up. It's not all about you all the time.
Excellent post!
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