The Photo Funeral
what seems like a very long time ago my wife’s grandmother (on her dad’s side) passed away. My wife and I dated for a couple of years before getting married. Beyond one trip to visit the extended family on his side I don’t really remember a lot of contact with the Woman. To me she was a complete stranger, and it seemed obvious to me my wife did not feel very close to her either. If you want to be a decent human being and not seem like a total waste of human flesh you do what you do. You show up for at least the viewing (a concept I have yet to fully wrap my mind around). My wife and I do the obligatory viewing, and then sit down. Next thing I know my wife’s sister is toting a camera and taking pictures. I don’t mean pictures of family members, I mean pictures of Grandma. In her casket. Okay, I have a small understanding this very well is a way for some people to remember their loved ones but I have to be honest to say it totally freaked me out. From that point forward I have made a concerted effort to never, and I do mean Never be caught looking at slides, photo albums, photo video montages at my sister in-laws house for fear the pictures will go from smiling faces, happy moments to dead people in caskets.
I’m sorry, what way to the bathroom again?
Later on, here I was at yet another funeral of a family member on my wife’s dad’s side. Thankfully I don’t remember any camera action during this funeral but the absolute hands down most memorable moment was when I asked where I could locate the Men’s bathroom. A lady staff member pointed past me. I looked at the direction she was pointing, looked back at her (I must have had the worlds most perplexed look on my face) and made sure. Again, looking annoyed she has to point again, I confirmed she was indeed pointing in the direction I thought she was. Through yet another viewing room and yes there was whole other viewing taking place in that very room at the same time. All I could picture was me getting accosted on my way to the bathroom by a random stranger saying something like: “hey! Cousin Ed! (not my name) and then being forced to pay last respects to “Nanna” while people look at me weird trying to figure out why their cousin Ed has changed so much.