I hate funerals!

Posted on February 9, 2012


(I wrote this almost a year ago. I was angry, very angry, when I wrote it. I had it private forever because I didn’t want to offend anyone. But now that it’s a year later I find that the thought of my Papaw dying is still fresh in my mind. Maybe I am going through the grief process all over again. But oh well, I’ve decided to make this public now *1-15-13* because if I can’t say what I want on my own blog for fear of others than I am only a prisoner in my own mind.)

I know they are supposed to be a time to fondly remember your loved ones but all you are reminded at a funeral is that they died and you can’t do that “fondly”.

All you do is stand around and tell people what the deceased meant to you or how you feel about their passing. They can’t hear you. They don’t know. So it must be for you and not them. If it was to honor them it would be as a gesture of love and support and honor while they were still alive. Wouldn’t it?

Maybe I am in the anger stage of grief.


First I denied that it bothered me. Don’t show emotion. Emotion is for the weak. Vacant=no feeling=no tears. I can do vacant pretty well.

Now I am just angry I guess. Maybe anger and denial mixed. I didn’t want to go to the funeral. Not because I didn’t love my Papaw. Not because I didn’t want to honor him. Not because I didn’t respect him. I didn’t want to go to the funeral because I DID love him, because I DID want to honor him, because I DID respect him. He wasn’t a showy man and any hoopla at all would have upset him. I didn’t want to go to the funeral because honoring Papaw, truly, would have been having no fuss at all. But that concept doesn’t make sense in our culture. Someone dies and what do we do? Not something that honors the dead but something to make US feel better. A little selfish I think. Does anyone else find it odd that a parade of people walk willingly pass a box with a dead body in it?

I lost my Papaw/roommate/son. I almost lost control of my living space. I am trying my hardest to keep my wits. Then again maybe I lost my wits a long time ago.

Dear Denial and Anger, don’t take up residence in my head for too long please. I still have to entertain Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance when they each check-in for an extended stay.

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