Skip to main content

Funerals Make You Think Deep Thoughts...

Or maybe that's just me.

I attended the funeral of a dear family friend this afternoon. As I sat there and watched the people arriving, I saw a lot of people I haven't seen in a very long time. It was a reunion of sorts---not the kind of reason you want to have a gathering, but sometimes in our busy lives this is what happens. Weddings and funerals become the places where we get to hug people that we love, but simply haven't the time to spend with in our everyday running arounds. (Yes, 'arounds' is a legitimate word. Honest. Ok, maybe not but I'm still using it.)

As Don's children rose to the podium and spoke about their father, I looked around at the people sitting in the chapel with me. As Don was in his 80's, the majority of the mourners in attendance had gray hair or no hair at all. I have recently made a somewhat unsuccessful attempt to hide the white blossoming on my own head.

All that is beside the point I was going to make. Yes, there was a point here and if I wait long enough with my fingers poised over the keyboard I'm quite certain it will return to me......

Or not.....

Oh yes! Now I remember.

I listened to how Don was remembered. He was always willing to give of his time and talents to those who needed him. He was a gifted mechanic. He was often terse and sometimes cranky. He always carried lifesavers with him and often handed them out to others at church.

We enjoyed some laughter when a few anecdotes were told and there were tears during the times we were reminded that Don is not really gone, he's simply gone on. That he is with his loved ones who have also gone on.

...and I wondered how I will be remembered when I 'go on'. I know how I see myself, but I don't know how others see me. Not truly. I mean, I know what SOME of you think of me (Hush) and I think I know how others may view me, but it is my own view of myself that stands out and it never quite measures up to how I'd LIKE to see myself.

Am I making much sense here?

I suppose what I'm asking is this: How would YOU like to be remembered at your funeral service? Are you planning your own or are you leaving it to those you leave behind? What songs would you like played or sung? Who would you like to speak?

Go ahead...tell me. I'd love to know.


  1. I've told my kids that someone has to sing "come thou fount" at my funeral...that and "Oh my father..." both of which can be sung to the same tune, interestingly enough. Otherwise, I have no plans. My hubby says he's gonna have a big 'wake' for me. I guess we'll see who goes first... lol


Post a Comment

Go ahead....tell me the truth :)

Popular posts from this blog

A Poem to an Abusive Man

I've been doing a bit of research on abuse, domestic violence and how it usually ends. It's not pretty and it's painful and I hurt every time I read another woman's tale of horror.

Did you know that emotional abuse is as detrimental as physical abuse? And that most emotional abusers continue on to become physical abusers? I didn't. I do now. I found a site where formerly abused women, on the path to recovery from their abusers, have written poems. This one below is one that haunted me.

Thank You

You wooed me with poetry
I bit on the hook
Had I only first read
The name of the book

I would have avoided
The very first page
For pages kept turning
Revealing the rage

The ups were a great high
The ride was a bash
But I rode with my eyes closed
To avoid seeing the crash
I knew it would come soon
But I never knew when
The rage and the leaving
And the path to the end

You had to control things
Determined you would
Emotionally destroying me
Every way that you could

Elderly Abuse

I heard a loud thud the other morning around 3:30 a.m. I checked my monitor but he'd once again turned it to the wall so I was unable to see if he was still in bed. I went downstairs right behind my sweet husband and dad was on the living room floor moaning and holding his head. He'd fallen. Hard.

The first picture is the day of the fall. The second is the day after. The black eye keeps blossoming. He has a gash on his head, hidden by his silver hair and he skinned his shoulder/arm. He's a mess.

Was he using his walker? Nope. 85 year old toddlers cannot be told what to do. Or rather, they can be told what to do, they simply won't comply. Ever. In fact they get down right angry and throw fits. It's not pretty.

His physical therapist came to the house the next day and strongly told him to use his walker EACH TIME HE STOOD UP. Has he? Nope. Nyet. He was very angry with me yesterday because I kept asking him to use his walker. Also, I asked him i…



Back on the horse
Monkey on his back
I see no light
Not even a crack
Back to delusions
Back to the lies
I see through his words
He can't hear my cries

Back into his soul
Back into his veins
The poison he pours
Dark liquid his chains

Backed into a corner
Heartbroken and torn
Back into the needle
The eye of the storm

Back to the wall
Soul bruised torn and broken
Back to my pain
His eyes half open

Back into the horror
Will he ever come back
Back into the nightmare
A needle in a sack

Back into his childhood
I loved him with fury
Looking back on his life
His choices my jury

How did this happen
Back to evil and sin
How can he do this
Lines on his skin

Back to my weeping
Back to my sorrow
My son, my love,
Has no more tomorrows
(all rights reserved)