Big Funerals

[Arab Nights (imported)]

To me it is kind of interesting how one's life ends.

I remember reading an obituary once that states simply what date the guy was born on, that he worked as a bar tender and that there were no known survivors.

On the other end, I have just flown across the country for the funeral of a friend of decades. She was born in a dirt poor Kentucky coal town. As a young adult she lived on an island on a river where you had to pull the boat across on rope by hand if you wanted to go to town. I counted over 200 people at her funeral. From 5 years old to oldsters using walkers, mostly White with a few Blacks thrown in. She had 29 direct descendents, so approximately 200 people were people she had accumulated in life. There were some rather good speeches given by kids and grandkids. One recalled being taken to her house for weekends because Mom and Pop worked. He said it was more like going to the Delta house than Grandma's house. He said that in the end, to him, what he will always remember and hope to teach his kids is that she had an open heart and an open door. I thought that was the perfect description of her.

I am just curious what funerals people have been to which drew a lot of people and what was it about that person that drew so many people?

[tugon (imported)]

She valued others so she was valued. I am glad she had so many loved ones whose loving thoughts raised her to the hands of God. She knew what was truly important in life.

My mother had a love of music and not much a love of inconvenience for her friends. She was cremated and we had viewing hours at the church an hour before the funeral. We hired a lady to play guitar and sing some of mother's favorite songs before the funeral. Then it went all Catholic traditional.

My funeral will be an open bar and my ashes divided in favor bags that friends can cast to the wind in the most fitting way they can think to do. I would rather buy my friends a drink than buy me a casket. If I have to have an urn I want the bottle from I Dream of Jeannie. If you did not send me flowers while I lived do not send them when I am dead. I will haunt your a$$. No minister or priest because I will already be debating life with god.

[Riverwind (imported)]

Interesting question,

My mothers had about 40 relatives on both sides of the family and maybe 30 friends and co workers.

My fathers on the other hand packed the church, standing room only, there were the same 40 or so relatives and about 250 friends, everybody knew my dad, everybody who did know him was there.

So what was the difference,

Will Rogers once said he never met a stranger and never met a man he did not like, this best describes my father.

I am more like my mother.

River

[transward (imported)]

For a number of years my closest friend was a black Rastafarian cab driver. I was underemployed for several years, and every afternoon after his 12 hr shift driving taxi ended at 3:00, he would come down to my houseboat, we would sit on the deck, smoke a little ganja, drink a little wine and solve the worlds problems. Then I was living as a male and cross dressing extensively. He never batted an eye.

He died suddenly of a stroke. At his funeral there were over 100 people. In the service first his sisters got up. She began her talk with "My name is ------, Alex was my brother." and a story about Alex. Then another sister. "My name is ------, Alex was my brother." Then a few brothers got up. Each began their talk, "My name is ------, Alex was my brother." Then a local Filipino businessman, who had sold Alex a house near Lake Union in central Seattle for a small fraction of its worth, because he though so highly of Alex got up. "My name is ------, Alex was my brother." Then a local politician, then a homeless man who probably hadn't had a bath for several days. Each began their reminiscences with "My name is ------, Alex was my brother." At least twenty or thirty people, black, white, brown and yellow got up. Each told a tale of their encounters with Alex. Each began, "My name is ------, Alex was my brother."

Afterwards we all stood and sang Bob Marley's Resurrection Song. I almost never let people see me cry, but to this day when I hear that song I cry like a baby.

Transward