Old Friends
We held Dan’s memorial service this morning. It was an anxious, wearing experience, which is only to be expected. A funeral is a sad time. It’s also an event where everyone, even those closest to the departed, is surrounded by strangers (My parents and I, for example, didn’t know anyone from Dan’s job or some of his circle of friends.) so there’s always the awkwardness of people you don’t know, and trying to remember names of those you do but haven’t seen in a long while, or know only distantly, and the embarrassment of failing to recognize those you haven’t seen in a very long while. Add the emotionally charged atmosphere and your own emotions, and the whole thing can be quite uncomfortable. For me at least as much as anyone—I am particularly uncomfortable surrounded by strangers, and with the open display of emotions, whether mine or anyone else’s.
But it also proved surprisingly happy. I got to see some old friends, who I usually only see at our annual Christmas get-together, which we missed last year. I got to see some of Dan’s childhood friends, who I remember quite well but simply had no contact with for a long time. I got to marvel at the height of teens who used to be little kids, thus reinforcing the fact that I am an old fart. It was a chance to touch base, however briefly, and trade a few stories. There was a lot of laughter among the tears, much more than I ever would have expected.
And that’s as it should be. Funerals, of course, are not for the departed but for the grievers who survive him. While it’s important to recognize our grief, an unbroken diet of weeping would be almost unbearable. Laughing despite the occasion, and the undeniable reassurance it brings that happy times are still possible, does a world more good than crying, however necessary tears may be.
I’m glad to have seen so many people today, as wearing as it was. Even the strangers.