Your First Funeral Visit

Damn it. What a crappy way to cash in your chips.

'All he needs is for somebody to throw handgrenades at him for the rest of his life...'

It was all in Thai and happened after meditation class. I had absolutely no idea what was going on. It was apparently one of the many funeral related things they do.

I've never been to a Western styled funeral.

If someone wants to accuse us of eating coconut shells, then that's their business. We know what we're doing. - Achaan Chah

My best advice for you, considering your situation, is to just shut up and be respectful. I don't mean that in an mean or disrespectful way—it's just that you are very unlikely to have anything meaningful to say, especially since you apparently were not on good terms with your nephew.

Also, plan out the outfit you're going to wear in advance. Don't do what I did and find out the morning of the funeral that you don't have any, say, plain black shirts. I ended up having to wear an inside-out Guns N Roses t-shirt. (That was the first funeral I went to, my aunt's, when I was 11ish. I've been to two since then: my uncle's when I was 14 and my mom's two years ago. I don't remember much from the first two and I rather dislike thinking about the last one.)

And if someone asks you for a hug, please give it to them. Even if you can't stand the person.

My first funeral visit was in 2007... or 2008, i'm really not sure. It was for the family favorite, my Uncle John, who died of a massive heart attack in the space of 10 minutes while my aunt was down picking something up at the shops.

I'd say 2001 when my Grandma finally died after a horrible case of dementia,but that was a memorial service since she opted for cremation. That one was more of commemoration if I remember correctly

The first true funeral I went to was three years later,...for some distant cousin I did not know or ever meet,I was forced to sing as well,...and it was on April Fool's Day.I know I sound like a prick,but well I hate singing and well April Fools Day was Serious Business to me back then

The most recent funeral I went to was five years ago when grandfather passed away,making 75% of my grandparents dead,this one I actually did lose it,it didn't help that Grandma was so upset since she's usually very cheerful. He was supposed to be getting better,so I left for summer camp,never saw him alive again after that day. It was kinda sad but yeah it commemorated nicely to.

So yeah I've been through both depressing and un-depressing funerals (for me)

edited 17th Jul '12 12:38:40 PM by terlwyth

My first funeral was for my great grandmother. My mother and her boyfriend were fighting so we were incredibly late. We ended up getting there when they were saying a few final things above her grave. I remember my mother starting to cry, and that made me cry because I realized I wasn't ever going to see her again.

I was eleven, I believe. Or maybe 12.

Then, almost a year ago, as many of you tropers may already know, my aunt Candy died on July 2. I hadn't seen her for so long, and had a chance to see her before she died; so that's haunted me ever since. At least I saw her when she was happy and full of life. Anyways, I went to two funeral processions for her death.

The first one was a funeral home in my hometown, Portsmouth. We went there earlier. I was all dressed up, and even had my hair cut for the occasion. All sides of the family were there. We filled up the main room where we would talk about Candy and everything, and I remember sitting in the second to front seat, along with my brothers, since we were so close to her in relation.

I held back the tears; I didn't want to cry in front of anyone. But it was hard. I almost choked on my own tears when the priest-preacher-pastor-whatever guy quoted my aunt:

And then it ended and I remember standing up to walk out. I will never forget that precise moment, of walking out of the chapel. It seems like a weird moment to never forget, but I was hit by an intense wave of emotions. Happiness and sadness, ... I would never see her again, but I would always treasure the memories I had forged for my dear aunt Candy. The sun drifted into the chapel and hit my face and I felt myself walking away from true innocence and into adulthood.

I felt so old.

The second procession was up in Richmond, near the Catholic school she had been the principal of. In a beautiful Catholic church... it was gorgeous. I remember feeling so out of my element, due to seeing so many other people that weren't related to me. They were all there for my aunt and it made me so happy. I was also out of my element due to being an agnostic/atheist, but... I still prayed. For her. I still bowed my head. For her and only for her.

I remember this incredibly hot lady who had an amazing voice. I probably spent a bit too much time staring at her ass. Aaaa I wanna go back now.

Everything was beautiful. I cried. Again.

And then we left and I was home and I spent the rest of the day singing Bright Eyes. I had an incredible connection the song At the Bottom of Everything during the time I was recovering from her death.

While my mother waters plants
My father loads his guns
He says death will give us back to God
Just like this setting sun is returned to this lonesome ocean

That was her death and its effects on me.

My first funeral was my grandfather's when I was 4. I remember asking my mother, "Can't they (the doctors) treat it (death)?"

Will be interesting the day that we can.

edited 15th Jul '12 5:03:59 AM by IraTheSquire

My grandfather, when I was very young. He lived a long life and finally succumbed to old age. I still remember him fondly to this day.

Aside from that, I've been to two other funerals. One was the funeral of a person who knew someone who knew my parents, so I didn't even know them. I hated it. I felt like an intruder. What right do I have to be here, when I didn't even know the person?

The last funeral I went to was my mother's.

edited 15th Jul '12 6:17:57 AM by Talby

My Grandma, just a year ago. Yay. It wasn't too bad, although seeing the corpse was strange, and the actual ceremony made me tear up a bit (I hardly ever cry because of sadness)

λ

I've only ever been to one funeral, way back when I was around 9 and my great-grandmother died I went to the service with my dad (his side of the family and all.). I mostly remember being really nervous about seeing a corpse before the wake and the general feeling of relief everyone had. The poor woman was 97 and had been suffering from dementia for so long that she could barely remember her children.

Needs Caffeine

My mother died when I was nine, so hers was the first funeral I attended.

There was half an hour of muffled crying and conversation outside the church before the service, and the mandatory procession of people who didn't know my name come to offer their condolences.

The service itself was fairly plain. We all approached the casket to pay our respects, and the priest said a few words, but after that I was too disengaged from the proceedings to summarize them further.

My advice to any first-timers is to just keep a dour look on your face, and if someone tries to make conversation, just smile sadly and nod. Hug if necessary. If you have the benefit of immediate relation to the deceased (or, better still, are a child thereof), you're generally expected to deal not only with your own grief, but the grief of everyone else as well. They're the closest one comes to the deceased themselves, and thus the natural outlet for collective mourning. If one has children, they'd do well to postpone death until the young have reached majority, as it can be a taxing experience.

If there's a gathering after the service, an open bar is best.

edited 17th Jul '12 9:54:39 AM by Sarkastique

Memento Mori

So I have a bit of an odd perspective on funerals, I've been to a lot in my life time. And my family owns a funeral home, so I've borne witness to a few more. But in terms of funerals I've been to it's been:

• Godfather Peter (I was 11 I think, first one I went to I was a mess, the P in MEPT is for him I took his name as my confirmation name)

Great uncle JJT (never knew the man but it was hard seeing Dziadzia (Americanized Polish for grandfather) so upset because he'd always been a rather stoic guy)

• 3 great aunts on my dad's side a few of whom I was pretty close with
• Dziadzia's
• My other grandfather (no ethnic name there, he was just grampy, the two funerals were 3 months apart)
• some other great aunts and uncles I wasn't close to (shameful I can't remember the precise number but I'm from a giant catholic family so I've had roughly 9million great aunts and uncles) on both sides
• My mom's mom
• My Babcia (Polish for grandmother)

Not trying to win sympathy, but kinda trying to make the point I've been to a lot of funerals. The general advice I have?

Dress nice, show up on time, offer to help out with little things at the reception after, and stay out of the way during the proceedings.

Funerals are dour sad affairs, receptions can be surprisingly lively, some of this may be a Polish thing, and I've heard it is, but on my dad's side it would often turn into a rather enjoyable party, devoted to remembering the person, but more along the lines of good stories about the, drinks and toasts. If you see people being jocular during the reception or laughing etc don't take offense, it's important to remember that people deal with it differently, and some people might be there to support someone else, expecting silence and somber attitudes might not work.

You don't have to dress in black, but don't put on something festive and lively. Dress nicely though, it's important to a lot of people that you show your respects by not showing up in jeans and a tee shirt.

Don't play the suffering Olympics, it's hard to gauge loss, and pall bearers are often chosen more for strength than anything. I know I've been a pall bearer at a lot of funerals just because I look decent in a suit and have the strength to do it safely and easily.

So basically, don't forget it's not about you, it shouldn't be, even if you're close to the deceased. And don't expect everyone to be as miserable as you are. It's okay for people if they're outside the wake itself to actually talk and maybe even laugh. Don't take it as disrespect unless they do it to your face like: "OH YOUR HUSBAND DIED! BAHAHAHAHAHAHA"

Obligatory self promotion: http://unemployedacademic.tumblr.com/

I went to my great-grandma's funeral when I was about five. I don't really remember it.

The artist formerly known as spasticgecko

My first funeral was my maternal grandmother's, in September 2001, which made me... six years old. I didn't know her that well and my mom wasn't particularly fond of either of her parents. It's not that she hates her parents, it's more that she doesn't really admire them. I distinctly remember thinking at some point before the funeral that they just threw dead people into the ground and buried them without a coffin, but I have no other memories relating to the event.

"Jack, you have debauched my sloth."