Funerals

Recently my Uncle Buddy died, abruptly, and a week later we had his funeral in the local area.  While I’ve been to plenty of weddings, funerals I’m not so familiar with – fortunately – but I have a feeling that I’ll be going to more of them as I get older.  Eventually I’ll have my own - hopefully not too soon.

My prior experience was my father’s, back in December 2004, just a week before Christmas.  I gave a eulogy at the funeral mass.  The uncle mentioned above was my father’s older brother, so the same family members were at both gatherings.  I actually enjoy meeting them, so it’s a shame that it takes a funeral to bring us together.  In fact, a reunion we had years ago – while my father was still alive – was organized precisely for that reason.  With my aunt getting weaker, we’re long overdue for another reunion.

Wake/Viewing.  The night before the funeral is the equivalent of the rehearsal dinner: the wake and/or viewing, held at the funeral home.  The casket was open, so we got a chance to “pay our respects.” That seems to mean, kneel down in front of the casket and gaze down with love or grief at the body.  The deceased looks…almost like wax.  I suppose it’s unrealistic to expect our beloved to truly appear “lifelike” given the circumstances.  My father himself once worked in an undertaker’s office when he was a teenager, so he explained that “we expect the body will decompose once it’s in the coffin and buried.  The embalming doesn’t preserve the body indefinitely, only so long as the viewing and funeral.”  It’s only in very rare cases like Lenin or Mao that the body is permanently embalmed (we can only wonder what happens to taxidermists when they die).

Funeral.  Neither funeral was in those small TV or Hollywood parlors.  Neither funeral involved mysterious women showing up claiming to be a mistress, or forgotten love children coming out of nowhere.  Nope, no scandals in our family….yet.  No one gave a eulogy at my uncle’s funeral, but my cousin Jimmy did repeat one of Uncle Buddy’s stories, very much in the same voice and style – and extreme length (!) – as Uncle Buddy himself would have.  Our family has a common bond of humor.  Uncle Buddy’s forte was long stories, well told, in fact so enthralling that to complain “enough already” never occurred to us.  My father was considerably less verbose but every bit as irreverent and comical.  Each had his own style.

Reception.  Just like a wedding, the funeral seems to be followed by a reception, though without music or dancing.  Perhaps they need a black bouquet:  who will catch the Reaper’s bouquet and be the next to die?  I can’t imagine a rush of young girls doing that.  Nor is there a flower girl or ring bearer, a best man, a maid of honor, or a huge death cake, nor would anyone want to put a garter on the deceased.  Not all the wedding traditions have funeral equivalents.  Presumably, however, we hope that our prayers and the funeral mass ensure that the deceased will, in fact, enjoy an eternal honeymoon in a much more pleasant place.