So I went to Dr. S's wake this weekend, and then the funeral today.
I know it's supposed to be a celebration of life and all, and people told really nice, funny stories- but it's still just so sad. And I am SUCH a crybaby. The second the organ started and they started wheeling* the coffin down the aisle I was weeping. And I barely even KNEW the guy. Then amazing grace got me choked up. Then I was ok for a while, til the family gave eulogies... And I figured I'd be ok as long as no one speaking started crying. Fortunately his wife/kids didn't talk. It made me think that there is NO WAY I will be able to speak at either of my parents' funerals. In fact if I could have my way I wouldn't even go. I am not going to deal well with my dad dying.
- aren't you supposed to carry the coffin?
But anyway, so I was pretty good (relatively speaking), only cried a little, and was pretty much dried up til the end. Until the brought the casket back out, now covered with a flag, and the pall bearers were crying, and I saw his widow, with her sons holding her hands and supporting her... then I was crying all over again. Fortunately another girl from work was sitting behind me and crying too, so I wasn't the only big baby there.
Man I hate funerals.
But I must say, and I mean no disrespect, but- it was the most rockin' funeral I've ever been to. I kept expecting a gospel chorus to pop out out of the wings. It was crazy! I'm not very good at church, and I'm not catholic. So all the kneeling and crossing yourself is foreign to me. But I'm used to services with a big organ, and that's the only instrument. Well I think this church maybe didn't have an organ (or something) b/c it seemed like there were piping in synthesizer music. Seriously. Like when getting ready for a hymn, all of the sudden a BEAT came blasting through... I finally asked "I know I'm not catholic, but is this typical?" And I was assured it wasn't. Don't get me wrong, it was still nice and touching and sad... but at times I almost found myself laughing b/c I felt like I was in a broadway musical. A little surreal.
Then afterwards M wanted to make it an "Irish Funeral" (even though we were all on call) so we went to her apt and she cooked us French toast, which was delish.
Now I'm home, and a little spent, and I think I could use a drink.
-J
P.s. Happy almost mardi gras peeps!