I swear, most of the time my days are random acts of weirdness that link together in such strange ways I find it very hard to believe that someone has thought this all out. My day today was not that weird or strange, I was just making an observation.
Something funny happened -- but not to me.
I picked the winning lottery numbers -- for two days ago. This is fun!
Yesterday, I was -- no, wait -- that wasn't me.
Can you tell I don't have much to say. Okay, here's what I have to say: I went to a funeral on Saturday. My sister's ex-husband died. He had remarried so his current wife was there sobbing like a... well, like a widow. My sister had a son by this man and by the looks of it, he was either taking it very well or was so detached he didn't know how to act.
My nephew stood up after the preacher had spoken and said a few words that he had written on some 3x5 cards. It was touching, I have to admit. He talked about the good times he'd had with his father, the first time he'd done certain activities with him... and the last. A few other people stood up and spoke about this man from angles I had never known. They called him "religious", "giving", "warm" and "generous".
Apparently after he and my sister split, he had found religion. He was the type of person who was always seen in flip-flops, a tank top and shorts -- and sunglasses. He was buried with the sunglasses on. I have to admit, that was a good touch. Sometimes when you see people lying in state, they just don't look like themselves. He looked well preserved with the sunglasses on.
As a basic notion, I don't like funerals. I don't like events where people are generally weepy and speak of someone who clearly cannot defend himself. All these nice words to someone who won't hear them. A joke that falls upon deaf ears.
It seems that it's a fairly common thing to think about one's own mortality after attending a funeral. I can't say that I really thought about mine. I didn't think about anybody else's either. Sorry, didn't work.
I don't want to attend my own funeral, let alone anyone else's. But when I go, please play "Into The Mystic" by Van Morrison.
Thank You.
Something funny happened -- but not to me.
I picked the winning lottery numbers -- for two days ago. This is fun!
Yesterday, I was -- no, wait -- that wasn't me.
Can you tell I don't have much to say. Okay, here's what I have to say: I went to a funeral on Saturday. My sister's ex-husband died. He had remarried so his current wife was there sobbing like a... well, like a widow. My sister had a son by this man and by the looks of it, he was either taking it very well or was so detached he didn't know how to act.
My nephew stood up after the preacher had spoken and said a few words that he had written on some 3x5 cards. It was touching, I have to admit. He talked about the good times he'd had with his father, the first time he'd done certain activities with him... and the last. A few other people stood up and spoke about this man from angles I had never known. They called him "religious", "giving", "warm" and "generous".
Apparently after he and my sister split, he had found religion. He was the type of person who was always seen in flip-flops, a tank top and shorts -- and sunglasses. He was buried with the sunglasses on. I have to admit, that was a good touch. Sometimes when you see people lying in state, they just don't look like themselves. He looked well preserved with the sunglasses on.
As a basic notion, I don't like funerals. I don't like events where people are generally weepy and speak of someone who clearly cannot defend himself. All these nice words to someone who won't hear them. A joke that falls upon deaf ears.
It seems that it's a fairly common thing to think about one's own mortality after attending a funeral. I can't say that I really thought about mine. I didn't think about anybody else's either. Sorry, didn't work.
I don't want to attend my own funeral, let alone anyone else's. But when I go, please play "Into The Mystic" by Van Morrison.
Thank You.