* Everyone deals with death in his or her own way. I tend to see the lighter side of situations. Funerals are no exceptions. It’s ok to laugh…
Ministers always start off, “…It’s a time to remember and celebrate the life of ….”. In the other room I saw coffee and dainties. If that’s the celebration of someone’s life….I want a different minister. Heck, killed-off dictators get bigger celebrations! Ok, wrong type of celebration but shouldn’t celebrating someone’s life be…I’m guessing…. a celebration!
When I’m gone, hire a minister who comes with references. Someone who knows what a celebration is. If the minister says, “…it’s a time to remember and celebrate the life of Jayson…”…. They better have at the very least a 50/50 draw, door prizes and pony rides.
1. My grandfather was not a small man, neither was the casket. I’m pretty sure they ordered the solid lead coffin because it was incredibly heavy.
The seven of us cousins were the designated pallbearers. Really? You want 7 male cousins, who used to push each other into mud holes, to hold the coffin near a mud hole? Looking at my dad and thinking to myself, “didn’t think this one through did you?”.
So there we are, shuffling our feet along the edges of the hole while trying to hold up the heavy casket about the hole. One wrong move or slip of the foot, someone was going to be in that hole. I was praying it be pallbearer number 2. When you have cousins on the opposite side of the hole, it became a game of tug-of-war…with a coffin. We weren’t even doing it on purpose this time. We were trying so hard not to snicker at our predicament.
A couple feet away stood the Funeral Director and the Minister….I looked at the hole, looked at the Funeral Director and Minister, glanced back at the hole….looked at the funeral director and asked, “So how’d you get this job? On your application you wrote down you were a people person?”. Well, now we look like a bunch of skinny legged knee knocking weightlifters struggling with this coffin, which has become heavier because the pallbearers are trying not to snicker. I’m pretty sure I heard my grandfather wishing he had been cremated right about now.
2. At my grandmother’s open casket funeral, there was an older woman who was paying her respects. She touched my grandmother’s hand and looked at me….
Older Woman, “She’s so cold.”
Jayson whispered like it was secret, “She has been on ice for a couple days.”
My Brother, embarrassed to be seen with me, “Really?”
Jayson, “Whaaat? She was talking to me, so I had to say something. I didn’t want to be rude. Should I go tell her we were going to put sweaters on hers? Or us? Geez, (nudged him towards the coffin) Now go tell gramma you’re sorry for picking on me.”
3. At my mom’s funeral, I was the guy with the microphone. Yup, I was in charge. I could say anything I wanted. I also knew that mom would want me to say something humorous.
I said the first thing that came to mind, “It’s a time to remember and celebrate the life of ….”. Damn it, I can’t believe I just said that. I just become an ordained minister, so I passed out the offering plate and see how much I could make. No, I didn’t do that, but I did think it. I also wanted to finish the sentence “It’s a time to remember and celebrate the life of ….” with my name because, after all, it was my birthday today. Geez…her funeral on my birthday…she always was a stage hog. I never received any presents…but, it was catered!
Afterwards, the four of us brothers were at dad’s. Dad was thinking about his mortality and said to us, “If anything should happen to me, I just want a small funeral.” Without missing a beat I said, “Sure, garbage day #4 you’re at the curb buddy.”. …. Now there’s a court order preventing me from attending.