I feel sort of... Selfish. Am I?
Instead of thinking about my dead great-uncle Sonny, the whole generic scene made me re-live my own grandfather's services...
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Today I had to attend a funeral service of a distant relative. My great-uncle died, and though I barely saw him, I am close to my great-grandmother and great-aunt, and I felt bad for them that they lost a brother. My great-aunt was trying not to cry, and another one of my relatives was crying the whole time.
Agh, I really dislike funerals or services or showings. I had to walk up to him twice and look at his dead body. I mean, sure, I didn't know him that well, but he was a real person and had a real life and real people that loved and cared about him, and then I had to... Look at him, laying there, lifeless.
& on top of that... Everyone there was sad, and if they weren't, they were trying not to be happy because they didn't want to be disrespectful. Trying not to be happy!
I don't think that's the point of services. I think the point of them is to celebrate their life and how truly special and loved they were; to celebrate how much good they added to this world. I believe they're for each and every person at the service to remember the personal times they spent with the passed person, and to remember how they touched their heart.
Yes, it will be a place filled with sorrow... But it should be a place filled with happy moments and laughter too, not just crying.
As the priest spoke his generic words about my great-uncle, he kept preaching about God and Jesus and the Kingdom of Heaven. He kept reading from the Gospels and from the Bible and praying.
It is a great thing that God is getting His son back, and that my great-uncle is returning to his Father. & yes, we should remember that he is going Home and returning to a much better place than Earth.
But this service was not for God! It was not for Jesus or Mary or any Saint! This service was for a great-uncle, an uncle, a grandfather, a father, a brother, and a son who went by the name of Sonny.
It shouldn't of been in a generic room, with generic furniture, in a generic funeral home, with a generic priest speaking out of the generic Bible. It should of been in his living room, he should of been laying on his bed, in his home, and those people who loved him most should of said what they think he would of said.
People of Mibba, remember this for me: when I die, I want a God damn party!
I want people crying, and laughing, and talking, and smiling... I don't want people to be afraid to express how they really feel. I don't want people walking on egg shells afraid they might hurt someones feelings.
I want music and strobe lights and fruit punch.
I want MY priest to speak for me.
& I don't want my dead body out for everyone to see; cold, lifeless, and pale. I wanna be burned and put in a chest, and divided between all of the people who've stole my heart from my chest.
xoxo,
Ashley<3
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