Funerals

Robert had a relative that died late last week.  The funeral was on Monday, and so we went to Rhode Island for the services.  Why do people get so weird anytime you mention the word funeral?  People ask the most bizarre questions. 

First, they want to know how old the person was when they died.  I'm not sure the magic age where they "had a good life" but if it is over 70, then they had a good life and the death was justified.  I think this is so people can vary their degree of sympathy.  For instance, this lady was 86, so you wouldn't get much sympathy.  For someone like my sister who was 39, or God forbid, a child, then the sympathy level is raised.

Another favorite question is how close were you to the person.  Wow, that is so none of your business.  Again, I think this is so people can justify the amount of sympathy they are going to project.  What, do you want to know if I cried?  Will it make you feel better to know that I cried?  Are you trying to justify me taking a few days off to go to the funeral? 

They are in a better place.  Really?  Because I thought they were just fine where they were and I could see them and talk to them as much as I wanted.  Funerals really aren't for the people who are gone, but for the people that are left behind.  AND I WASN'T DONE WITH THAT PERSON!  Maybe they are in a better place, but they left me in a crappy place.

I told someone today where I had been, and he simply said, funerals are never a good thing.   See?  How hard was that?  He's right.  No matter how old the person was, how close we were, or if they are in a better place, funerals are never a good thing. 

Robert's cousin, Anna, used to make me the most amazing lasanga every Christmas.  In fact, she made sure that Robert had a piece for me after I got off the plane at midnight on Christmas night.  God speed, Anna.  I'm going to miss you.