On Funerals

It doesn't take a lyric poet to wax on about the significance of funerals, so I won't try, but I will say the following:

Why do I often have a good time at funerals despite being sad? It's because a funeral feels mandatory, so people come. And you often get to see people you like whom you haven;t seen in a while. I caught up with a large number of people I would not have seen otherwise. I called other people out of the blue to see whether they had heard. We chatted. It was nice. But it feels wrong.

Two more things:
1. If a measure of success of your life is how many people show up (in an icestorm) to pay their respects, my former co-worker was a huge success. He was a big man, both in stature and personality. He had many friends. It took about 2.5 hours to get up to the receiving line. THe line of people waiting to pay their respects snaked out of the chapel, around the corner, down the hall, through the "family room" where they keep the snacks, back down the hall the other way, up the steps toward the offices and back down and to the front door. If the weather had been more agreeable, I'm sure the line owuld have snaked outside and down the block. They ran out of prayer cards and when I signed teh book, it had ten or fifteen pages completed already.

2. When I die, if I have a headstone (which I will not as that is a huge waste of money), it will not read "Always Came Prepared for the 7:30 am Meeting" but it will read "Beloved Wife and Devoted Mother" and that is the way it should be. I went to the 7:30 am meeting today (in at work around 6:00), but come 4 pm, I scooted my way toward the exit pretty darn fast because Chuckles was eagerly awaiting my arrival at school (where he did not nap today). My priorities are in order.