Death is the Debt That All Men Pay

I have decided.  I don’t want a funeral.  Being at Chuch’s viewing just made me realize that I don’t want a bunch of people standing around all somber and depressed.  Even if I die *young* I don’t want that.  I would rather peopel be happy and remembering the good times and celebrating my life, than afraid to say anyting other than, “I am sorry, we will miss her” for fear of insulting someone.

Funerals are for the living…but I still don’t want one when I am dead.

At Chuch’s viewing (because with 2 children I didn’t want to take a chance of going ot the funeral…any baby sitter we would have would have been there as well) my BIL’s wife was cracking jokes about something, I think about DH (they have some kind of rivalry) and then she all of a sudden got real serious and said she shouldn’t be doing that at a funeral.  Why not?  Chuch wouldn’t have minded I am sure.  Maybe someone thought it may be inappropriate…but why is it?  Because we *shoudl be mourning?*.  Screw that.  Chuch was a wonderful woman.  I would like to think that she would rather us be happy at her funeral and celebrating her LIFE and not crying and depressed.  It is one thing to miss someone because they are no longer with us, but it is something different to sit around and cry about it all day for a few days.

Now, I am not saying that if her kids where there and genuinly mouring their mother, then that is different.  You want to be there to support the family…but there wasn’t one person there that was distraught.  Not one.  They were sad, of course.  But they were also talking about how much Chuch loved the visits with Babyhead and how close they had gotten…they were remembering her LIFE…not crying over her death.

And that is what I want.  I want people to be able to crack jokes at my funeral.  I want people to be able to wear yellow and red instead of black and brown.  I want them to remember me as I lived, not as I died.  To miss me, but not to mourn.

That would be good.


1 Comment

Filed under Family, Inspiration

One response to “Death is the Debt That All Men Pay

  1. I feel exactly the same way. I’d rather be remembered and celebrated than cried over.

    When my Granddad died (I was 21 at the time and we had always been very close), a lot of people look askance at me when I wore blue to his funeral. The fact was, he always said I wore black too much and should wear more colours, so wearnig blue to his funeral was my way of honouring him – and I’m sure he would have appreciated the thought. My ister and I went on to make each other laugh retelling stories to each other of the tale Granddad used to tell us (some of which were hilarious!) and, agai, people looked at us funny. We did our fair share of crying, but retelling the stores to make each other smile and lauugh was our way of remembering how much fun he was and how he always made us smile and laugh when he was around.

    Celebrating the life of the person who has passed doesn’t have to just be about missing them – it should be about remembering the person who was such a great part of our lives and why they were so important to us.