Hubs and I went to a memorial service of a friend today. He was just nine months older than me. He and his husband had been together for 46 years. It was love at first sight for both of them. He had been married to a woman prior to meeting his husband and had children. His ex-wife and children remained a part of his and his husband’s life as did his grandchildren, nieces and nephews and great-grand children.
He had a business for many years, was a hospice volunteer during the height of the AIDS crisis, worked with special education students and made friends in many places throughout the country. We did not know them when they were young and I would not have recognized either of them from the old photos being shown on the monitor above the remains at the funeral chapel.
There were 75 or more people at the memorial. Several offered eulogies. Seems everyone loved, cherished and admired him. If they had been Catholics, they would have made him a Saint right then and there.
I could not help but imagine my own memorial (which I hope not to have). There might be a handful of friends, maybe a relative or two. I’ve never been that close to my brother (we are 6 years apart) or with my niece and nephew, for whatever reason. My parents and sister, aunts and uncles and many of my cousins are deceased.
I’m not sure who would eulogize me, perhaps my husband, brother or an acquaintance. They would use words like: “too sensitive” “cranky” “stubborn” “hot-headed” “anxious” “bipolar” “reclusive” “quick to curse and swear” “hated crowds” “hates talking on the phone” “impatient” “opinionated” “hates Mexican food”.
They would struggle to find some positive attributes: “a pretty good husband” “a good cook” “an interesting sense of humor” “a good writer” “liked the beach and the ocean” and would try to make my work history sound better by not mentioning the quits and fireds: “worked with children with behavioral problems” “worked in HIV/AIDS health care” “ran a group for LGBTQ young people” “wrote grants for nonprofits”.
All in all they would be remembering me in all my earthy, irreverent humanity, not as a saintly person who had led a particularly “heroically virtuous life, or martyred for the faith, or worthy of imitation.”
So the memorial was not only thought provoking for me but, as I am just about at the edge of the grave myself, somewhat personally depressing.
To make matters worse we were all invited to a restaurant for luncheon buffet: chicken and beef enchiladas, rice, beans, sopapillas. The sopapillas were ok.
4 comments:
They better mention blogging in your eulogy!
First, I have to say that your last sentence made me laugh out loud! You certainly seem to know yourself very well!
Second, I totally get what your saying about funerals and memorials. Once you get past 70, you can't help thinking about such things, and a time or two I've jotted down some ideas for my own very short service, including a song or two, and a reading from a book that has been very helpful to me. But I have even fewer relations than you do, and they are older than me, and live far away. M.P. has 4 adult children, their partners/spouses, and 4 grandkids - but though they are all unfailingly polite when I do see them - rarely - I very much doubt they would care to attend. They hardly ever make the effort to come see their own dad! Young people are sooo busy, you know . . . .
Perhaps I will just tell M.P. that if I go before he does, just to play a certain song and think of me - no need to make a big deal of it. Funerals are for the living, not the dead. I know that my Redeemer liveth, and Jesus loves me, so I'm good to go whenever my flight is called.
I'm sure everyone who comes to your funeral will have plenty of good things to say, Frank. You're a good man, and probably you are loved much more than you know. So keep on keeping on. And be grateful for all the good things you do have. Think of all the guys whose names are on the Quilt who never got to live as along as we have.
Pax + tecum.
I am so used to Italian Catholic funerals. Rarely a eulogy. The priest might say a few kind words to acknowledge the faithfulness of the deceased; lots of holy water, the Ave Maria from the choir director (the rest of the choir being at work), a procession of cars with headlights on following the hearse to the graveyard, more holy water and signs of the cross and people throwing flowers on the casket. Then a nice lunch of salad, pasta, sausages and meatballs. The ladies all bring their specialty cookies. Funerals are for the living.
Apart from a few details, the Episcopal service is very similar, and afterwards all the food and drink and visiting, even joking and laughing. As a kid I didn't understand why the big meal and all the cutting up. But I understood later on.
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