Tag: funeral

The Funeral

I have just been to a funeral of a man I barely knew. Strange, you might think. But not so strange since we were neighbours.

I knew his wife better than I knew him. His wife, who is now without a husband. A woman who had been married for forty years, who didn’t expect to be a widow so early, if at all. You see, her husband was only sixty-five.

She knew the boy at school, the fifteen-year-old, I found out at the funeral. They weren’t ‘an item’ until they were twenty-five, she said. He was her ‘soul mate,’ her best friend, the father of their four children, and the Nonno to their six grandchildren. Sadly, the unborn seventh, will have missed meeting this grandfather.

I saw a lot of love at the funeral. I saw it in those downturned mouths, those tears of grown men, those stooped shoulders. I could hear it in the broken voices, the sniffs, the silences. I listened to the stories told by brothers and sisters, daughters and sons, the mother-in-law, the bereaved widow, and I could feel the respect. Words like ‘legend’ and ‘unique’ were used. Nicknames like ‘Dancing Dennis,’ and ‘The Don’ were bandied about. He sounded like a character, a fun guy, a stirrer, an accepting and encouraging father, a handyman, a genuinely good guy.

I wish I’d known him better.

He was diagnosed with a nasty cancer less than a year ago. The last two weeks were bad. He insisted on coming home for Christmas, to ‘the best palliative care he could get.’ He shared Christmas Day with all his family. And then he went to bed and left.

There is no doubt in my mind that this man left then because it was kinder to his family. Only today I found out that his family was the most important thing in the world to him, that he was selfless, that he would do anything for them.

Observing the large family today, I believe it.

His wife, in closing, said, ‘Life will go on, as it must. But it will never be the same.’

People like this man make the world a better place. He was here, he did his best, he left a legacy. He left good people in his wake. People who will also go on to live good lives, inspired to do their best, and make their own way.

Last week, this man had two requests: I want bright colours at my funeral. I want people to be happy for the good life I had. What a great attitude.

I went to the funeral out of respect for the grieving wife. As a neighbour. As a member of the community. As a potential friend. At funerals, we hear people’s stories. We get to know people better – the deceased and those who loved them. By knowing some of his story, I now know some of hers. Perhaps in this way I can help. It might be that chat while holding the hose on the garden. Or that drink on the veranda at sundown. It might simply be the knowledge that a neighbour cares.

By going to the funeral, I have reached out a hand. By doing so, my own life has more meaning.

Funeral Rights

Should anyone be stopped from attending the funeral of a loved one? A child, an estranged relative, a divorced partner?

If they loved the deceased and the deceased loved them, even if there had been acrimony, perceived wrong or disloyalty, should those in control, the funeral-throwers or directly bereaved, have the authority to stop that person?

You would hope in those circumstances that the person or people in the controlling position would have empathy, largeness of heart and good will – no matter how much they dislike the contentious person. After all it’s an emotional time and they’re supposed to be thinking of their loved-one’s wishes.

If the bereaved is the wife, husband, life-partner, son, daughter, mother or father, their position obviously has weight. But even if they hate someone, and I’m not talking murderer or rapist here, I’m talking about Joe-average, do they have the right to say, ‘Stop. Do not pass. You are not welcome here, go home.’

Here is why I think not.

Funerals are about paying respects to the deceased and to those who are most affected by the loss. They’re an acknowledgement of a life, hopefully, well-lived. They’re about spending time in deep reflection, remembering who that loved-one truly was: appreciating their strengths, forgiving their weaknesses and feeling them in your heart. They’re a time to absorb the enormity of that person’s passing/leaving/dying, or whatever your word is. Funerals are about accepting the love and loss, revelling in funny stories, crying over sad ones, sharing with others that feel the same way, joining together in a celebration and mourning.

Loved one’s stories are told, embellished and renewed. They become cemented in your mind and heart and in that way, the deceased stays with you forever. A funeral is a fitting closure to a life and should be shared by all that loved, respected or was just touched by, the deceased.

No one should be stopped from attending a funeral of a loved one.

 

With great respect, I wish my father-in-law farewell. You’ve been another father to me since I was seventeen. You gave love, guidance and support for over 35 years. You enjoyed being sociable, having fun and playing the clown with all the grandchildren. You were a good man.

RIP Barry Simmons 9/11/18 (A man who saw images in clouds)