It’s Your Funeral
How many times have we heard that one? How many times have we used it? When a friend dove headlong into some wildly desperate attempt to gain his 15 minutes of fame (damn you Andy Warhol), performing a stunt that a monkey would have the sense to avoid, we’d toss them a flippant farewell in the form of “well, it’s your funeral”. When we’d attempt what others thought foolish or impossible, like asking Mary Jo Huge-Boobies to the high school dance, our friends bon-voyage would consist of those 5 fateful syllables. And it usually proved prophetic.
Recently however, this phrase of imminent doom took on an entirely different meaning for me. A more literal and wonderfully sensible interpretation.
My uncle died on Veteran’s day. His service was held a few days after. He was a strong willed and beloved part of our family. Coming from the south, I’m used to the typical Christian service. I’m not deriding anyones faith or traditions. Far from it. This affair taught me that it really IS your funeral.
What I witnessed at my Uncles obit was, for me, a meaningful and heartfelt farewell. A unique requiem that was spoken by six people who really knew the Man. It was a memorial service that was indeed memorable. I hope that my own service will mimic it, although not anytime soon.
The event could be described from a religious standpoint, as agnostic, and at the extreme, atheistic. This proved to be a point of contention with some audience members, but, and I say this with all respect, it wasn’t their funeral. Too many times have I sat quietly as a loved one was you-googlied by some knucklehead who knew NOTHING about the deceased. It seemed contrived and downright weird. But I won’t digress here. Uncle’s service was organized by his son, who also directed the affair. He asked six people to speak their peace during the service. Each participant waxed nostalgic. None were professional speakers, but all were eloquent and moving.
After Unc’s service, many went to dinner at a fine restaurant next door. People laughed, and caught up on news that was too long in the telling. We saw people we’d not seen in up to 20 years. It was a joyful, and happy event in many ways. Lots of good memories were recounted. The tears shed were those of joy for the man who was. I laughed a lot that night. Not something I’m used to doing at funerals.
If you’re looking for my point, here it is. Plan ahead. Find out what kind of service you’d like to leave everyone with. Let somebody know what you want. It’ll be up to others to see it gets done. But don’t leave it to some fella at Berrys and Burns Funeral Home to find a speaker. Ask folks now. Preferably someone who likes you. If not, at least someone who can tolerate you. And then INSIST that attendees get together somewhere and have a good laugh or cry to your memory. You’re most definitely worth it. So if you’ll excuse the anti-pun, LIVE IT UP! It’s your funeral.
Speak, and ye shall be heard!