Sunday, October 8, 2006

Ob-la-di. Ob-la-da...

I sat on a broken-down flesh-toned sofa with a low back and cushions so squishy I felt my butt hit the springs as I lowered myself on to the furniture.  The pastor began his sermon, and as he droned on about mountians and holy beings and psalmists, I stared at the floor.  I let my eyes cross as each carpeted square morphed in and out of my line of vision.  I didn't want to listen. I didn't see myself as really sitting at the funeral of a man, not aged 28 years who had ended his life along with his wife in such a dramatic fashion that left a child of fifteen months orphaned. 

A woman with short dark hair and high-water pants up to her knees pulled a palm pilot from the depths of her Kmart handbag.  She nodded as the pastor talked about redemption and put the tip of the stylus in her mouth.  For ten minutes my eyes could focus upon nothing else but this orally fixated woman.  

The small wooden and leather chairs lined up behind the pews like soldiers for battle.  They creaked and groaned as people shifted in their seats and burdened the small chairs with their physical and emotional burdens.  

I hate funerals for the reason that they rarely celebrate the person's life and that they always bring our own mortality under a microscope. 

4 comments:

sazzylilsmartazz said...

I agree with you but some are changing now. So very sad about that guy. He's only a year older than I am; sorry for his family too.
Dianna
http://journals.aol.com/sazzylilsmartazz/DiannasMindlessMusings/

tenyearnap said...

I'll bet that Jason's family was glad to see you there. Sorry you have to go through this.

rebuketheworld said...

Beautifully written...sounds like a beginning of a novel...

I hate funerals...

~Raven

gazker said...

Holly, I went to my Uncles funeral recently, one part was held in the village Church, the other at the crematorium. The part in the Church was very funny as it was, a celebration of his life. That day, the saying I laughed until I cried was true. We were all crying through grief, but also through laughter as I heard some of the funniest stories I had ever heard. That, is how I wish my life to be celebrated.
Gaz