And then they put him in the ground

Funny things, funerals. All sorts of things happen that have little or nothing to do with the act of mourning. Allow me to share a couple of random thoughts.

As we followed Victor's coffin down the aisle at the conclusion of the service, I found myself looking intently for a friend amongst the crowded pews. We had fallen out a few months earlier, but he had shown sufficient grace to be there for this solemn day. I was able to spot him and shoot a quick wink of recognition. It was what the occasion demanded and I was glad I was able to do that small, but important thing.

Then we processed the four miles up to the cemetery for the interment. There I espied one of my wife's oldest friends who, having lost a little weight, was glowing with an unusual level of sexual attractiveness. My lustful thoughts were disturbed as the priest began his final words, words of such power and beauty there has been no need to change them despite the passage of centuries since they were originally penned. By whom? I wondered. But then I felt a little robbed when the priest omitted the words:
Man hath but a short time to live and is full of misery. He groweth up and is cut down like a flower.
But of course he couldn't leave out the most important utterance:
Earth to earth, dust to dust, ashes to ashes.
The time for words over, the undertaker passed around a little pine box of earth so that the mourners could toss a little handful down onto the coffin, a final act of bidding good-bye to the departed. How old is this tradition? For all I know it could pre-date Christianity itself.

As we walked away from the grave, where presumably at a later time will be filled in by others, I reflected that cremation is a less satisfactory form of dispatch than burial. In cremation the coffin simply disappears behind a velvet curtain and that's it. I've often thought it would be far better if we could actually see the coffin burn, perhaps by providing some sort of heat-proof window so everyone who wished to could come forward and watch the process of immolation. In the Hindu tradition the cremation is carried out in the open air so that everyone can witness it if they wish to. But I guess it will be a while before we see that in our uptight culture. Pity.

When a relative dies, until the funeral is over, especially if the responsibility for organising falls on us, the process of grieving is put on hold as undertakers are contacted, invitations sent, funeral service designed, and so on. Only when the wake is over can we settle into  a process of adjusting to their loss as best we can. Which is where we find ourselves today. The pain, in my case already beginning to ease, is a daily phenomenon which allows us to get used to the feeling of loss. Few people reading this blog will have no idea what I am talking about. May your grieving be bearable.