The day after the funeral

1486622973789The day after the big goodbye.

I sat in church yesterday with people I care about and people I don’t know from Adam’s apple. We were there to say  goodbye get closure and move on.

The last place I would have  like to be was  there. I wanted to be home surrounded by my art supplies. A strong cup of coffee, but no my sense of duty and resposibilty  dragged me to church. The family said come early the church will be packed.

Well got to church 1/2 hour before the servise would begin. The doors were still locked,  only a few cars and the funeral car was there. Maybe more people would  come. I didn’t want to be there with a few people, then I would be forced to make small talk and I hate small talk.

Suddenly my black shoes that I bought a few years ago irritated me, its not walked in and all I could think about was getting home taking them of and walking barefooot.

The pastor entered and so started the formalities. Singing hymes to slow. Reading from Psalms 131:1-3. I have read it before so nothing new for me. Then a intresting fact is brought up the hight of Jerusalem above sea level and hight of Jericho above sea level.( Mental note go a check the facts on google,  I might even find some more intristing facts.)

Then the service ended with my cousins daughter is reading a letter to her mom. Not a dry eye in the house and lots of sniffing. Time to get out, but I am not the only one that wanted to escape, the door is blocked by slow moving strangers.

Next is the dove release and flower troughing on the casket. Since I learned a few years ago that the practice of troughing flowers on a casket is for the god Hades, I refrain from doing it but if the other mourners wanted to do it and it gives them peace I don’t mind watching. ( Just hope nobody saw me not doing it because I know my family, they will think I don’t care for my cousin.)

Finally the last tradition I hate the coffee and cake. The reason I hate this, is because every time we have a funeral my mom who is a great baker has to bake something. Nobody ever thinks that the last thing she wants to do, is stand infront of a stove while her heart is breaking. Luckily this time they got a local catering company to do the cakes.

I love coffee but in the small hall, even the coffee tastes unpleasant. The cakes doesn’t tickel my taste buds so I will gave it a skip.

Finally time to leave, my mom lingerd while greeting. I greeted as if I had some place to be because I didn’t have more words to sooth the mourner’s.

We stopped at the nearest KFC because suddenly we were hungry. We discussed the funeral and the hard times that awaits them.

Conclusion my family are defenatly not perfect and they are very focused on there lives and making money. I am different I care about other things that don’t interest them. But to color a picture you need all the pencils.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Posted in Art

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