At 2:00 today I will be attending the funeral of David’s brother, it’s not something I’m looking forward to. I am attending with Jan who also works in the unit and possibly Susan if she can finish with her auditor in time (in an apt sense of surreallity her auditor today is called Jesus). I think it important that, as a unit, we can offer David some support and hopefully it will make his eventual return to work a little easier. He needs to know we understand and sympathise with the pain and hurt he is feeling at this moment.
I’m not a great funeral person and not just because I don’t like to see people hurting. I’m not a religious person and feel hypocritical when taking part in any religious service. I feel uncomfortable reciting words in which I have no belief and often have the opposing view of and so usually stand in silence. Funerals in particular I often find to be cold, impersonal and comfortless. The service, largely unchanged in hundreds of years, is the same for everyone and, I feel, strips the individuality from the person rendering them to just another chore for the priest/vicar/pastor etc. etc. etc.
Only when the deceased is an active member of the congregation does any sense that we are there to say farewell to an actual person seem to permeate into the proceedings. I know David’s father is a religious man and I assume the rest of the family have similar views so I hope they find the strength and comfort they are going to need today from the service. I would never criticise anyone from taking strength from whatever source they find to be most helpful regardless of my views on that source.
I know that it is my wish not to have any religious aspect to my farewell do, not funeral, farewell do. Unfortunately I recently attended the funeral of Steve whom I had known for 20+ years and was the long term partner of another work colleague Jane. I’ve never had such a good time at a funeral as I am sure all who attend thought. The feeling of loss was palpable but the service, delivered by a member of North East Humanists, concentrated on everything Steve had left behind for everyone and by its end all present had laughed at least once and there were smiles on their faces. When I go I hope the Humanists help me put as many smiles on as many faces.
I’m not a great funeral person and not just because I don’t like to see people hurting. I’m not a religious person and feel hypocritical when taking part in any religious service. I feel uncomfortable reciting words in which I have no belief and often have the opposing view of and so usually stand in silence. Funerals in particular I often find to be cold, impersonal and comfortless. The service, largely unchanged in hundreds of years, is the same for everyone and, I feel, strips the individuality from the person rendering them to just another chore for the priest/vicar/pastor etc. etc. etc.
Only when the deceased is an active member of the congregation does any sense that we are there to say farewell to an actual person seem to permeate into the proceedings. I know David’s father is a religious man and I assume the rest of the family have similar views so I hope they find the strength and comfort they are going to need today from the service. I would never criticise anyone from taking strength from whatever source they find to be most helpful regardless of my views on that source.
I know that it is my wish not to have any religious aspect to my farewell do, not funeral, farewell do. Unfortunately I recently attended the funeral of Steve whom I had known for 20+ years and was the long term partner of another work colleague Jane. I’ve never had such a good time at a funeral as I am sure all who attend thought. The feeling of loss was palpable but the service, delivered by a member of North East Humanists, concentrated on everything Steve had left behind for everyone and by its end all present had laughed at least once and there were smiles on their faces. When I go I hope the Humanists help me put as many smiles on as many faces.
No comments:
Post a Comment