Don't You Just Love A Good Funeral?

Funerals are incredible things. Even the most horrid of humans gift their condolences and respect to those who have lost a loved one. I love how the city respects them in traffic, allowing them to pass in their hour of grievance. It is a necessity. I cannot imagine what it is like for those who are "lost"-unknown to be dead or alive. As humans, no matter the religion, we cling to this. Many of us grieve in different ways, but a funeral forces us to reconcile with humanity. Recognize those who are still living as a new type of support, maybe more or maybe less with the recent passing.
My keyword of life lately, and probably always, is BUSY. I am too busy and I tell people I'm busy too much. I should shut up and get my neverending pile done. When my father asked me to attend the funeral of someone I never knew or met, I was hesitant. Let's face it, this is no barbecue. Although I was offered dinner in exchange- I never got it, huff! I told him I really was too busy, but when he asked please I began to wonder why he would even ask me to go. Again, I don't know this man, and have seen his left behind loved ones in quite some time. I'm glad I went.
I have never been to a graveside funeral, nor one for a military personnel. Double whammy on the firsts here. The entire grounds was hushed, seemingly out of respect, as I drove to the building. We quietly chatted outside, awaiting the family, and silently moved to our cars when they appeared. As I started mine I laughed as I realized I was trying to start my car quietly. We try, Harvey and I.
Following the line of grief, I, for whatever reason, did not feel out of place. I felt like I should be there. The scenery was beautiful and this was such a strong moment of quiet reflection. As we slowed to a stop, everyone hesitated to depart their vehicles. Again, we try so hard to uphold these silences. We all feel awkward and unsure of what to do. Funerals are not everyday life, but neither are weddings and we are quick jump in there. I guess that's the balance of life. You spend most of your time celebrating, which we should, and some reflecting. I am beginning to think, however, that I do not reflect enough. I'm "too busy."
Being pulled to this funeral was perfect timing. There were a lot of other things I could have been doing. School work, getting hours at work, or evening responding to week old e-mails. But I was there to simple be. I was there as a warm body that was showing some respect and care to those who had lost someone. I guess that is why we feel obligated to attend, to show our friends that we know they are sad and, as much as we hate to see them like that, we will be there for them anyway. It isn't all about the body in the bag. It's about not just getting through this time, but reflecting through it, too.
The wind was perfect. It really was too beautiful of a day for a funeral. The wind picked up perfectly at just the right times to blow the scent of the flowers towards the faces of mourners. I loved it. Perfect weather, pure human emotion. Raw care. As the Marines folded the flag, it was such a sight as the setting sun shine through it. One was older and the other I refuse to believe was old enough for the Marines yet.
All of these emotional triggers apparently hit my emotionless father. I could hear him sniff quietly a couple times, although you will never hear him admit things such as these. But that is a part of relating. He has already lost his own father, also a graveside funeral, and knows what it is like for his friend to lose his.
Times like these often come without warning. Forcing us to adjust our lives. We plan our graduations, interviews, weddings, even our child's birthday, and retirement. Death is the one we haven't planned, murder excepted although even that one isn't planned by loved ones (usually). You have a few days to drop it all for this momentous occasion. To show your final respect. Gather your thoughts and words. Thank God it is so rushed, so that we can see the most raw human possible. No fronts, no super planned speeches. None of the crap. It is such a beautiful sight.
This reflection of another's life brings us to serious thoughts of our own. What are we worth? What will they say when I'm gone? Will they care? Would they even know? How will I go? Is this my last Christmas? And what is on the other side, really? At the end of a life does my missing that meeting today really matter? Purpose?

Funerals are my favorite social gathering for sure.