Let’s Put the Fun Back in Funerals

I went to a funeral recently and, with any luck, I’ll be going to many more over the next forty years. That might sound a bit cold-hearted but I mean it in the best of ways. Of course I find it upsetting to see friends and family members pass away but my sadness is always tempered with the undeserved sense of accomplishment I feel from having outlived the deceased.

It’s a petty thought and one I’m more than willing to own up to. These days I don’t get many opportunities to feel like I’m better than most people and attending a funeral service gives me a chance to do just that. In addition to boosting my fragile ego funerals also provide me with an excellent opportunity get out of the house in my later years when I’ve become even more of a shut in. There’s really nothing like visiting with the yet-to be-deceased during a catered lunch or potluck while each of us silently note how poorly the others have aged to put a little spring in my step.

As much as I enjoy judging others over various cream based casseroles and Jell-o molds, however, my favorite part of any funeral proceeding has to be the eulogy. My only complaint is that most eulogies could do with a little more honesty. The departed may have passed but, let’s be honest, they probably weren’t wonderful people for every second of every day. After all, if everyone was as good hearted and well intentioned as their eulogy would lead us to believe this world be a much better place.

Just once I’d like to hear something like “Martha wasn’t much beloved by her family members and I can only assume that everyone in attendance is simply trying to be certain that she is, in fact, dead. Of course she could just be very still but, either way, I’m sure that you’re all looking forward to the cremation where we can put the matter, and Martha, finally to rest.”

Or how about “Bob was not the brightest bulb in the box. It shouldn’t be much of a surprise that his last words were ‘Do you think this is live?’ as he was attempting to rewire his car with extension cords. Remember that one time we got him to eat a contraceptive sponge because we told him he wouldn’t have to use a condom for a month? Aside from the bowel obstruction that turned out to be a happy mistake and we now have his three daughters here today to join us for this blessed occasion.”

The anecdote in the eulogy doesn’t even have to be that that involved. A simple “Remember that time Jerry drank too much, went to his daughter’s basketball game the next day and didn’t make it to the bathroom on time because of the beer shits?” would do wonders for keeping the audience awake.

We’re human, after all, and admitting that fact would make any eulogy that much more poignant and, honestly, a little more engaging. To do otherwise seems just a tad disingenuous.

About the Author

derekbremer Prior to his life as a stay at home father Derek spent more than a decade performing public relations and marketing functions for financial consulting firms and found the job to be precisely as exciting as it sounds. When not tending to his wife or daughter Derek enjoys subjecting the public to his unique take on fatherhood, travel and animal husbandry. He has been published in Scary Mommy, Sammiches and Psych Meds, The Good Men Project, HowToBeADad, Red Tricycle, RAZED, HPP and the Anthology "It's Really Ten Months Special Delivery: A Collection of Stories from Girth to Birth.