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Monday, November 14, 2011

a connoiseur

I've been to enough funerals lately that I feel I can begin to critique them.

I don't like the ones with lots and lots of God. It starts to feel like an infomercial for the church and Jesus rather than anything to do with the dead person. The Catholic service doesn't bother me because that feels like ritual that is part of the process. It can go on a bit though, that's for sure. Lots of time to flip through the prayer book, look at the stations of the cross, count the flower arrangements. 

The one yesterday was a Christian denomination I don't know at all and the pastor? reverend?  really seemed to know the dead guy. He told funny stories as if he'd been there. Turned out he'd never met him. So the pastor/whatever was a good actor. Smarmy though. And he kept stopping to drink from a green container. Okay, that startled me at first because I'd sort of thought it was the thing that held Phil's ashes.

When I was a kid, the lady who took care of me was a pastor's wife. I can't recall which denomination, but I know I before I went to school, I ended up attending a lot of services and a bunch of funerals. I have memories of white gloves, fans flapping, crying, wailing and even collapsing people, pews CROWDED with people. Also I wasn't allowed to go up front and visit with the dead people even though I could see them where I sat.

Now those were REAL funerals, not pale imitations like we get today.

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