Peg Herring's Blog - Posts Tagged "funerals"
Let's Ask the Dead
My upcoming release, THE DEAD DETECTIVE AGENCY, might have put me in a strange state of mind. I keep wondering what the dead would think of the living at a funeral.
Funeral attendance is required more and more often as a person ages. Here's what I notice about them:
First: The ministers in charge seem to miss the fact that the people are there not for a sermon, but out of respect for the person who died. Instead of acknowledging this, many clergymen and women make the occasion into a bid for conversion. My thought: if attendees are churchgoers, they don't need a second weekly sermon. If they're not, you just emphasized for them why they don't go to church.
The other thing I wonder is if the dead really would enjoy seeing their loved ones publicly exposed in the throes of their grief. It is painful to me to be present as family members suffer. I don't want to watch them being led into the church before and out of the church after, following that dreadful box of dead. Where did we get the idea that grief is somehow resolved by publicity?
So here's my personal declaration. No funeral. When I die, I want a nice dinner for anyone who cares to attend. No wringing the grief out of people by capsulizing my life and telling everyone what a great gal I was. The minister can attend, and he will be allowed to say grace if he can do it in a minute or less. After that, just talk about me while you enjoy the chicken and meatballs. Or don't, as the mood strikes. Enjoy each other's company. That's what a funeral should be for.
Funeral attendance is required more and more often as a person ages. Here's what I notice about them:
First: The ministers in charge seem to miss the fact that the people are there not for a sermon, but out of respect for the person who died. Instead of acknowledging this, many clergymen and women make the occasion into a bid for conversion. My thought: if attendees are churchgoers, they don't need a second weekly sermon. If they're not, you just emphasized for them why they don't go to church.
The other thing I wonder is if the dead really would enjoy seeing their loved ones publicly exposed in the throes of their grief. It is painful to me to be present as family members suffer. I don't want to watch them being led into the church before and out of the church after, following that dreadful box of dead. Where did we get the idea that grief is somehow resolved by publicity?
So here's my personal declaration. No funeral. When I die, I want a nice dinner for anyone who cares to attend. No wringing the grief out of people by capsulizing my life and telling everyone what a great gal I was. The minister can attend, and he will be allowed to say grace if he can do it in a minute or less. After that, just talk about me while you enjoy the chicken and meatballs. Or don't, as the mood strikes. Enjoy each other's company. That's what a funeral should be for.
The Irony of Dying
A columnist in the Sunday newspaper yesterday wrote about aging, and one of his comments struck me as odd. He said getting older made him think about doing more things to make others say nice things about him after he's dead.
Hmmm. Why do we care?
Being dead means you can no longer hear what's said by the living, so why do we spend so much time thinking about how we'll be remembered? Some people plan their funerals like they're going to be there. Others leave vast amounts of money to some organization that will put their names on a building, a plaque, or a scholarship. I guess it boils down to one thing: we want to be remembered.
Some apparently don't care if it's for something awful, like those who take a bunch of school children or a plane full of innocent citizens with them. Most of us would like to be remembered for good things. I can't help but notice that when a person dies, people say what a "great" person he or she was. (Anyone in the military when he dies has automatically become a "hero" to the news media, but that's another topic.)
The truth is, we're mostly average people, loved by one or ten or a hundred who will miss us when we're gone and say nice things about us at our funerals. It doesn't change a thing, but I guess it's nice to know.
Hmmm. Why do we care?
Being dead means you can no longer hear what's said by the living, so why do we spend so much time thinking about how we'll be remembered? Some people plan their funerals like they're going to be there. Others leave vast amounts of money to some organization that will put their names on a building, a plaque, or a scholarship. I guess it boils down to one thing: we want to be remembered.
Some apparently don't care if it's for something awful, like those who take a bunch of school children or a plane full of innocent citizens with them. Most of us would like to be remembered for good things. I can't help but notice that when a person dies, people say what a "great" person he or she was. (Anyone in the military when he dies has automatically become a "hero" to the news media, but that's another topic.)
The truth is, we're mostly average people, loved by one or ten or a hundred who will miss us when we're gone and say nice things about us at our funerals. It doesn't change a thing, but I guess it's nice to know.
