CELEBRATION OF LIFE!

Observation of the Day!

What happened to the sad funerals of our youth? My first experience with funerals was as a boy in my early teens, when my maternal grandparents died. It seemed there was a lot if crying and sadness. I had a heavy heavy heart. Today, it seems the non-Irish have adopted the tradition of the Irish wake with less drinking.

Funerals have become a Celebration of the Life of the deceased. This non-Irish wake is fun. That’s the wrong way to express it, but it truly is a celebration and celebrations are good times.

My first experience with a Celebration of Life, although it was not called that at the time, was when my paternal grandmother died. I was married and living in California when the call came. I made the trip back to Indiana. We gathered at the funeral home, and I saw family and friends I had not seen in years. Grandma lay in her casket, while her friends and family got together to remember. I remember that I felt a little strange when I found myself laughing during a ritual of death.

When my Dad died, we had the viewing, which is part of the Celebration of Life process. Over 250 people signed the guest register. He would have been amazed that he had touched those many people’s lives.

It was a rather large room. The casket was on one end and my mother, who had had a stroke and was showing signs of dementia sat at the other side of the room. Friends and family all greeted her. She was the queen with her subjects paying homage.

After it was over and we took her home, she sat in her chair, quite content and said, “I had such a good time tonight.” It was a sad time, but I knew what she meant.

Last week I went to another Celebration of Life. Al went quickly and his friends and family gathered at the church. The service itself was wonderful. The eulogies were meaningful and funny, as they recalled the life of a kindly curmudgeon, who read to schoolchildren. It is funny how a blunt, opinionated, often judgmental old man becomes a well remembered curmudgeon when he passed. Maybe there is hope for me after all.

His casket was covered with a blanket with the hand prints of his young reading audience. Al liked to sing. He sang barbershop and in the choir. Earlier he recorded How Great Thou Art and Amazing Grace. When he completed the recordings he gave them to his daughter saying, ”Here, I want you to play these at my funeral.” Al was old school. He did not call it a celebration.

So here we were listening to Al sing at his own funeral. It was moving. He sang without accompaniment. He had a very pure voice. It was definitely singing, but it had a little of the flavor of an actor who is not a great singer, but somehow sings in an almost conversational and personal manner. Bob Dylan sings a little like that, but Al was a better singer. It truly was the celebration of Al’s life. We had lunch and then Al was buried and life goes on.

His last goodbye was interesting. The staff at his assisted living home was having a meeting, when one of the monitors went off, the one Al wore in case of an emergeny. He got the last laugh tormenting his caregivers, as he left for home.

Have a nice day!

Sam