Barbara: One if the joys of blogging, certainly for us, is that we have a forum for our opinions. It’s liberating and exciting to get to be honest, to delve into the psyche. Even if we don’t always agree with each other, or you don’t agree with us, we absolutely agree with ourselves!
But I find myself in a conundrum this week. I actually don’t know what to do, don’t know how I absolutely feel about it, and so can’t make up my mind. At first I couldn’t even blog about it—it felt too personal to describe this process. Funny, huh? The end result of any of my musings: okay to reveal; the process: too painful. Hmmm. Anyway, Deb encouraged me to write about it, feeling that if I was struggling, maybe other people would want to a) know and b) know they’re not alone if in similar shoes. So here I am, fodder for your advice, opinion, and personal experiences.There is a funeral this week that I am struggling to decide whether I should or shouldn’t attend. Normally, this is easy territory for me. If there is a funeral significant to me, of course I try my utmost to go. Even funerals of people I don’t know … because the departed was someone important to one of my beloveds. But this week there was a funeral that was big––big in import, big in profile, big in devastation, big big in loss. I had no direct link to the deceased or the family, but my beloveds were deeply involved. And because of that I felt this loss deeply. I also felt compassionate love for the grieving family because of how well I “knew” them through the connection to my beloveds. So part of me thought I should be there, felt I would regret it if I didn’t pay homage. And the other part of me knew that this was a big enough funeral that I could actually be “in the way”. I wouldn’t be providing comfort to the family or friends (who don’t know me), and probably wouldn’t be able to provide comfort to my beloveds (who would be otherwise occupied). A mutual friend described this conundrum really well: we don’t want to be, or look like we are, “death groupies”.
And yet the energy still vibrates around this question, because a life is only lived once and begs to be remembered and celebrated. Is there such a thing as “in the way” at a funeral or memorial?
What would you do in my place? And why?
Deb: Barb, I will give my answer through your words. “I had no direct link to the deceased or the family, but my beloveds were deeply involved. And because of that I felt this loss deeply. I also felt compassionate love for the grieving family because of how well I “knew” them through the connection to my beloveds.”
In a nutshell, my friend. Thank you for coming. I may have been occupied, but it will always mean the world to Colin and I that you came. You now share our friend. The only difference is you got to know him after he was gone. Xo
Edited to say: Barbara wrote her post before making her decision and Deb responded afterward. Barbara wrestled with this decision until the last moment, but absolutely does not regret going at all. And still wants to know your opinion … even if you disagree with her choice :)
In these circumstances do what your heart tells you to do. I would decide in the morning how I felt and either go or stay. I think the fact that you are wrestling with it means you probably would want to go. (And you did).
ReplyDeleteBarbara, you did the right thing. Plain and simple. *warm hugs*
ReplyDeleteI agree -- "what your heart tells you". It
ReplyDeleteis challenging when your heart and your head do battle! Thanks, my friends.
After reading your post, Barbara, I thought "Hm, maybe then you shouldn't go." Then after reading Deb's post, I thought "Oh! Good thing you went." That your presence meant so much to her and Colin is the deciding factor that you couldn't know before, but were intuiting. Lesson learned, for me, and it will be remembered when I find myself in a similar situation. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteEven know you didn't know the person who passed away, I am sure you being there is always appreacited. That's a hard decision to make,and only you can make it which make it even more tough. I probably would have done the same thing. You did the right thing thought.
ReplyDeleteHmmmm, just sat down to read the news. There was a big article about the bad weather in Toronto. Are y'all OK?
ReplyDeleteIt's weird, huh, Katie, that we can think these questions are so easy to answer and then they're not.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Lyndsie. And Rigel, strangely (and it might be a post for a blog), weather kinda embarrassed Deb again. All the storm talk and it's just about 6 inches, clear roads, and smooth transit system, so... a lot of fuss for nada.
I would've went without hesitation, for your friends who knew the deceased. It can't be a wrong decision to be there for them, even briefly, or on the outskirts of the room, to show you care.
ReplyDeleteYup, Joanne, I'm so glad I went for exactly those reasons!
ReplyDeleteBarbara-I think the people who loved the deceased are ALWAYS comforted by the presence of their other loved ones. Maybe only for the formal service, but letting your loved ones know you're there for them? I don't think you can ever go wrong there.
ReplyDeleteI respect you for going Barbara. Me? I try to avoid funerals like the plague. I am horrible in the face of tragedy. I never know what to say or how to act. I know you don't always have to say something, your presence is all that matters, but it's difficult for me.
ReplyDeleteI think it's good you went. It shows the people you care about that you're behind them. It has also made me rethink my stance on funerals, and I will probably try to attend more now since you've put it in perspective for me.
Thanks, Hart and Megan. That's the thing with funerals: difficult and complicated, and yet fundamentally healing and necessary. xo
ReplyDeleteI do not like funerals, but that is because most of the funerals I have attended are the "come to be seen and make sure you are seen" type. But if it means anything to someoen you care about, attend.
ReplyDelete