The funeral for my Uncle Len is today.
My brother complained to my mom that he didn't have any "church clothes," but he'd have to go buy some, and she impressed me by saying that he could wear what he wanted, that the only thing Len would care about was that he'd come to the funeral, not what he was wearing.
Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In September: 2935
They had set up a table with a ton of Len's favorite things (I only got about half of it in this photo), and it was kind of delightful: little cars, motorcycle paraphernalia, a lucha libre mask, cans of his favorite toxic energy drink, hats, hot sauce, a karaoke microphone, and photos of Len with his kids, and from his wedding thirty years ago.
They had the viewing (which was really awful*), then the funeral, then a sort of informal, open-mic wake type thing. That was filled with stories and photos and shared experiences, and except for one small fit (thrown by another of my uncles), it went without a hitch.
Push-ups Today: 100
Push-ups In September: 3372
The post-funeral segment was the best part. It was a real lovefest (and yes, I'm aware that they all are), with tons of positivity, happy memories, reminders of jokes he'd made, the kind of funeral you'd throw a hero or a celebrity or I dunno, somebody not at all like me.
And while my Uncle Len died WAY too young (nineteen years younger than my father, who probably should've made it to 83 or so, like his parents did), it was neat to see how many lives he touched, and the passion with which the various people spoke about him.
Words Today: 242
Words In September: 18,976
2 comments:
That's nice. When I die, I'd like some kind of informal wake with folks just sitting around telling stories about fun times we shared together and that sort of thing. I'm sure it won't be like that, though. It'll be in a stuffy church where everyone has to wear their Sunday best and they'll talk more about a religion that I don't believe in than they do about my (admittedly pitiful) life.
Doesn't really matter though. I won't be there, because I'll be dead. As you once told me, and I believe you were quoting your father, "Funerals are for the living." The point of them is to make those who you left behind feel better about that, so I guess next week when I'm gone, y'all can do as you please.
Whoa, whoa, next week? Can it be on the weekend? I've only got a couple more trips to the cabin before I get snowed out.
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