Funereal! A philosophical state of mind
Attitude here is dismal, with occasional bursts of loud. My aunt has to give a speech at the funeral, but she kept getting frustrated and tearing up her speeches, so my mother convinced her that I should write the speech. Thanks Mom, no pressure or anything, right?
I can't write because I don't have access to a good computer or writing surface; I can't move because my backneckshoulder are killlling me. But I've been driving. :D
More on the funeral tomorrow, or Monday, or something. I KNOW YOU'RE ALL REALLY EAGER TO KNOW ALL THE GORY DETAILS, RIGHT?
It's funny, you don't really think about it, but public facades are kind of reassuring. I've heard people say that they think it's healthier in cultures where you're not expected to be calm and composed in the presence of others, that it's better to just grieve out in the open instead of locking it up inside. ...think I heard that on Six Feet Under.
But it's kind of... good, to know that you can compose yourself. It's not a matter of discomfortalthough it's incredibly uncomfortable to be there when someone is grieving but it's just a good sign.
My mom kept saying, "They're devastated. They don't show it, but Grandma is so upset, and Poppy is really hurting. And Aunt Frannie is just heartbroken." And... of course they are. They should be. Their only grandson, Aunt Frannie's 19-year-old son, is dead.
It doesn't worry me that when they're alone, they're mourning. But it would worry me a lot more if they couldn't pretend -- don't eat, don't pay attention to their surroundings, don't play nice with others. That was what I was afraid of, when I thought about my aunt, who's lost everything: divorced, alone, and bitter, living in my grandmother's basement, etc. Scott was everything to her. But she can still pretend, so I feel like... maybe she'll make it, until maybe, someday, she'll be okay again.
ETA: I forgot to mention today was my grandfather's birthday. Do you know how hard it is to get a birthday card that isn't "Wishing you the best birthday ever!" or "Enjoy your special day!"? Not exactly appropriate, when it's the day before your grandson's funeral.
I can't write because I don't have access to a good computer or writing surface; I can't move because my backneckshoulder are killlling me. But I've been driving. :D
More on the funeral tomorrow, or Monday, or something. I KNOW YOU'RE ALL REALLY EAGER TO KNOW ALL THE GORY DETAILS, RIGHT?
It's funny, you don't really think about it, but public facades are kind of reassuring. I've heard people say that they think it's healthier in cultures where you're not expected to be calm and composed in the presence of others, that it's better to just grieve out in the open instead of locking it up inside. ...think I heard that on Six Feet Under.
But it's kind of... good, to know that you can compose yourself. It's not a matter of discomfort
My mom kept saying, "They're devastated. They don't show it, but Grandma is so upset, and Poppy is really hurting. And Aunt Frannie is just heartbroken." And... of course they are. They should be. Their only grandson, Aunt Frannie's 19-year-old son, is dead.
It doesn't worry me that when they're alone, they're mourning. But it would worry me a lot more if they couldn't pretend -- don't eat, don't pay attention to their surroundings, don't play nice with others. That was what I was afraid of, when I thought about my aunt, who's lost everything: divorced, alone, and bitter, living in my grandmother's basement, etc. Scott was everything to her. But she can still pretend, so I feel like... maybe she'll make it, until maybe, someday, she'll be okay again.
ETA: I forgot to mention today was my grandfather's birthday. Do you know how hard it is to get a birthday card that isn't "Wishing you the best birthday ever!" or "Enjoy your special day!"? Not exactly appropriate, when it's the day before your grandson's funeral.

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OMG, that sounds so horrible. Poor Frannie. It's my worst nightmare.
They must have a lot of faith in you to be composed enough to compose a speech. I have faith in you too.
Much love and blessings.
Shiva. I've never done that although I've been to plenty Jewish funerals and houses where people were mourning.
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My aunt liked what I wrote, but I can't imagine she's going to be able to... actually read it, when she's up there. I don't know. Anyway, I know it's a tremendous gesture of faith on their part, and I do appreciate that, but it was just such an -- unwanted thing. I still don't know if I really emotionally understand that he's dead. I'm sure tomorrow will clear that up, though, right?
I sort of feel like we've already been sitting shiva; both the 4th and the 5th we just sort of went over to my grandparents' and spent the afternoon/evening there, eating food other people brought over, demanding to know when the fireworks would be on and kvetching about bad journalism and having philosophical discussions on how they verify your credentials to be buried in a Jewish graveyard.
Thank you so much for the good wishes.
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That sounds like a lot of pressure, having to write for a funeral. But since we've become LJ friends (I know it's only been a few days @_@), I've had a chance to look over some of your writing, and I think you have the eloquence for it.
Best wishes to you.
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I can't even tell you how many people showed up to the funeral, and how much my aunt was touched and helped along by their presence. Not only does she have us, but so, so many friends of his. I'll write more about it
not that you should feel obliged to read, because depressiiiiiinglater.