How old were you....
- Thread starter Debi
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probably around 7 or 8, it was a traditional Appalachian funeral, where the deceased was placed in a room of the house that had been set up for viewing, and someone had to sit up with the dead.....not sure of the impact if any it had on me, other than it still being kinda creepy in my mind...lol...( now I just think, " that's how you get ghosts, right there"...lol )
OP
OP
Wow! I've heard of that but never met someone who attended that type of wake! I can imagine that might have been a bit creepy. Especially at that age.
Yeah, deffinately one of those things most ppl today would think of as strange...lol... and a life lesson of death....walk in the "living" room and BAM...there it is...lol. just glad it wasn't our house.....
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OP
OP
My first funeral attendance was for my cousin killed in Nam. I was an older teen and it was closed casket. (Helicopter crash and burn) I was OK with the funeral itself, but the room...the emotions, the "mind" overload! OMG. Didn't have good shields back then and it was like I couldn't shut anything out. I no longer do funeral homes, but do send my condolences and flowers. Those who know me know why. There is a LOT of energy, both solid and ethereal, running around in them.
ozentity
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Not until my 30's.As a kid, being the way I am and taking on everyones feelings,I was not allowed to attend my grandads funeral when I was 12 as mum had enough to deal with.Even in my 50's I find them overwhelming.I know the people are fine now they have passed,it's the people's greif attending the funeral I have trouble dealing with and take it all onboard.
garnetsilver
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I was only about three years old, and some misguided person thought it might be fun to hold me up to the coffin and have me touch the deceased. Such was my shock at not encountering warm, living flesh, that I went into hysterics and meltdowns. For years I couldn't be gifted with dolls, because I would get upset all over again since most dolls are made of hard materials. I had a favorite stuffed animal for years that I loved because it was soft. Even today I can't look at a body in a coffin, nor deal with all the grief. I prefer to think of those who have passed away as I always remembered them, and not what is left over.
Good stories guys.
I grew up going to funerals. Maybe I was at the right age at the right time I always knew where the crayons and the toys were in the funeral directors office.
And the pace of going to funerals has never slowed down. It's almost to the point where it is flabbergasting. It just never stops.
Mokey and I we're on the chat thread one day and Imentioned that I just came back from a funeral and now I'm going to a wake. That is a little nutty.
Ever since my brother and I became teenagers we became the pallbearers. Now what you need to understand is we were the two guys in the middle on opposite ends that carried all the weight.
The other 4 old guys were there for show or honer. They didn't carry any weight.
There was one patch where my brother and I were pallbearers way too often. I went to the store and bought some white leather dress gloves. That way we would have a really good grip on the casket.
Those little slippery white gloves provided by the funeral director were worse than useless.
When I had the chance to do a paint and wallpaper job at a funeral home I made sure that the SOB knew my thoughts about this issue
So I guess in the big picture being a pallbearer and going to lots of funerals is somewhat put a focus on my life. When the man on the street asked me why I never became a head shrink, I just say it was not for me but at least I'm useful at funerals.
Here is a picture of Little Joe. He is the resident kitten.
I grew up going to funerals. Maybe I was at the right age at the right time I always knew where the crayons and the toys were in the funeral directors office.
And the pace of going to funerals has never slowed down. It's almost to the point where it is flabbergasting. It just never stops.
Mokey and I we're on the chat thread one day and Imentioned that I just came back from a funeral and now I'm going to a wake. That is a little nutty.
Ever since my brother and I became teenagers we became the pallbearers. Now what you need to understand is we were the two guys in the middle on opposite ends that carried all the weight.
The other 4 old guys were there for show or honer. They didn't carry any weight.
There was one patch where my brother and I were pallbearers way too often. I went to the store and bought some white leather dress gloves. That way we would have a really good grip on the casket.
Those little slippery white gloves provided by the funeral director were worse than useless.
When I had the chance to do a paint and wallpaper job at a funeral home I made sure that the SOB knew my thoughts about this issue
So I guess in the big picture being a pallbearer and going to lots of funerals is somewhat put a focus on my life. When the man on the street asked me why I never became a head shrink, I just say it was not for me but at least I'm useful at funerals.
Here is a picture of Little Joe. He is the resident kitten.
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ElliO
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Oh, Garnet! That's terrible! I know in some cultures it's supposedly important for little children to be introduced to death that way, but ugh! The scarring is horrific.
Paintmn, thank you for doing the hard work of being a pallbearer and helping families say goodbye with dignity and respect.
Funerals for me aren't about the dead, but about the living being able to say goodbye and share grief in a communal setting. I think my first funeral was my grandfather when I was six or seven. For me, it was just a chance to get together with all of my cousins. We were all farm kids, no strangers.to the cycle of life. I do remember being confused that Grandpa died so suddenly, but years later I found out that because my father was recovering from a stroke and they were concerned about his health, my aunts and uncles didn't tell Dad how sick my grandfather was, even going so far as to say his cancer treatment was working when it wasnt. I don't even know if Dad got to see him in the hospital before he passed. Talk about emotional trauma! Our family was pretty messed up!
I know in some cultures it's supposedly important for little children to be introduced to death that way, but ugh! The scarring is horrific. Paintmn, thank you for doing the hard work of being a pallbearer and helping families say goodbye with dignity and respect.
Funerals for me aren't about the dead, but about the living being able to say goodbye and share grief in a communal setting. I think my first funeral was my grandfather when I was six or seven. For me, it was just a chance to get together with all of my cousins. We were all farm kids, no strangers.to the cycle of life. I do remember being confused that Grandpa died so suddenly, but years later I found out that because my father was recovering from a stroke and they were concerned about his health, my aunts and uncles didn't tell Dad how sick my grandfather was, even going so far as to say his cancer treatment was working when it wasnt. I don't even know if Dad got to see him in the hospital before he passed. Talk about emotional trauma! Our family was pretty messed up!