Time to Go....

Obvious statement number 47; I am someone who avoids funeral homes.

Yesterday was my first visit to one in almost 2 years, when my cousin Danny died. I didn't want to be at that one either, but Danny was only a month older than me and we were really close friends as kids, even playing football together for a year on a city rec team. Seeing him in his casket just reaffirmed one of the things I dislike so much about funerals. My last memory of him wasn't anything spectacular, it was just Danny being himself at a family party. We didn't talk much, and hadn't talked much at all in years. Our lives went in different directions, and that was basically it.

When I think about Danny, it's generally memories of us doing things as kids. Throwing each other, and anyone else unfortunate enough to be near us, around inside a moonwalk at a railroad picnic, ragging on him whenever we'd meet girls and he would clam up and not say a word, or avoiding contact drills with each other during football practice. We were always about the same size, but at that time I was much stronger than Danny, I would often play OL/DL and he was strictly a WR/DB, so lining up against each other in practice would have just led to humiliation for him when I ran him over, or even MORE humiliation for me if he ran me over. The coaches understood that, and since we were both really good players they let it slide to help maintain our egos.

Almost all of my memories of him are things like that. A smiling, happy-go-lucky kid. Not the guy I saw laying in that box. That's the one thing I would have liked to have changed about being at his funeral. I was going to go to that one no matter what, but wished it would have been handled a little different.

Danny's was one of only three funerals in the last 10 years that I really felt a need to go to. Shunta' and my uncle Dennis were the other two. Shunta' had a closed casket, and my uncle was cremated so I didn't deal with that at either of their funerals. All three were very close to me in one way or another, and all three left this existence suddenly and too damn early. That had a lot to do with my desire to be there, and wasn't just family obligation like last night.

There are plenty of reasons to avoid funeral homes, but to me I think the biggest thing is seeing people I really care about in a state of grief when someone close to them dies. I handle those situations MUCH better one on one, but there is always the mass effect to deal with in the funeral home. I often counter that by finding one or two people to talk to someplace other than the main viewing area. Last night it was the lounges. One downstairs where I could find a bottle of water, the other at the top of those stairs, right by this oh-so-lovely wall clock. Of the 4 hours we were there, I spent about 90 minutes combined in these two areas, and most of that was in the upper lounge talking one-on-one with a cousin.

He is actually a second cousin, and closer to my dad's age than my own, but we had quite a good talk for a lot longer than either of us expected, and he decided to impart upon me some wisdom from his life experience. I guess I'd be expected to divulge that now, but I am gonna keep that all to myself.

Going to the funeral home yesterday did solidify my wishes for after I die though. I have pretty much always wanted to be cremated, but I am obviously very anti-funeral home. I'd much prefer a Marktoberfest style party over some quiet, stuffy service. Hell, it'd be the one time I'd lift any of my three party rules....but only the one about the kids. If any douchebags or guys with popped collars show up to that, I will haunt them for all eternity. I'll have the time.