If there's one thing that we all have in common, then it is that we are mortal beings. Death is connected to life as is shadow to light. Death is a burden we all have to carry. And when someone dies in our entourage, we all deal with it in our own ways.
Two days ago, I came to know that the father of a high school friend had died. The man was riding his bike when all of a sudden he got a heart attack. He was hospitalized, but took his last breath of oxygen only a few moments after he had arrived there. After hearing the news, I could not imagine what it would be like if I lost my dad. For the last few days, my thoughts were with my friend. I felt a little bad. Mainly because she had lost her dad, but also because I kind of neglected the relationship I had with her. After I had sent her a text message in which I told that I was thinking of her, I decided I would go to the wake. Together with some friends. Just to be of some support.
Meet myself at a funeral.
Whenever I'm at a wake or a funeral, I undergo an emotional feeling that I cannot describe. I don't feel uncomfortable, yet not comfortable. I don't feel sad (unless it's someone I know well), but obviously I don't feel happy. My emotions stay somewhere in-between, as if I am not completely capable of understanding what exactly is happening. I'm in an emotional state I don't have a facial expression for.
Whenever there's a silence, especially long silences, I have the very annoying yet irresistible tendency to start entertaining myself. Instead of reflecting on something that matters, I start thinking about something funny. An inside joke. A hilarious image. Of course, I start smiling. And of course, it is totally inappropriate. After I killed my smile, I anxiously glance round the church, hoping that nobody saw.
I find funerals hard. Not only do you need to cope with a loss of a loved one, but you have to behave according to the rules. With so many rules about what is/isn't appropriate, spontaneous grief seems to be pushed away into a corner, it seems. Almost two years ago, my grandfather passed away. After the funeral service, the family and I made our way to the mortuary, where the coffin was at, so we could pay our last respects. Apparently (I wasn't aware of it at the time) I was standing with my hands in my pockets. But not at all in a relaxed kind of way. It was my way of expressing I didn't know where to stay with myself, a way of expressing that I felt highly uncomfortable. About a week later, someone who saw me said:
Two days ago, I came to know that the father of a high school friend had died. The man was riding his bike when all of a sudden he got a heart attack. He was hospitalized, but took his last breath of oxygen only a few moments after he had arrived there. After hearing the news, I could not imagine what it would be like if I lost my dad. For the last few days, my thoughts were with my friend. I felt a little bad. Mainly because she had lost her dad, but also because I kind of neglected the relationship I had with her. After I had sent her a text message in which I told that I was thinking of her, I decided I would go to the wake. Together with some friends. Just to be of some support.
Meet myself at a funeral.
Whenever I'm at a wake or a funeral, I undergo an emotional feeling that I cannot describe. I don't feel uncomfortable, yet not comfortable. I don't feel sad (unless it's someone I know well), but obviously I don't feel happy. My emotions stay somewhere in-between, as if I am not completely capable of understanding what exactly is happening. I'm in an emotional state I don't have a facial expression for.
Whenever there's a silence, especially long silences, I have the very annoying yet irresistible tendency to start entertaining myself. Instead of reflecting on something that matters, I start thinking about something funny. An inside joke. A hilarious image. Of course, I start smiling. And of course, it is totally inappropriate. After I killed my smile, I anxiously glance round the church, hoping that nobody saw.
I find funerals hard. Not only do you need to cope with a loss of a loved one, but you have to behave according to the rules. With so many rules about what is/isn't appropriate, spontaneous grief seems to be pushed away into a corner, it seems. Almost two years ago, my grandfather passed away. After the funeral service, the family and I made our way to the mortuary, where the coffin was at, so we could pay our last respects. Apparently (I wasn't aware of it at the time) I was standing with my hands in my pockets. But not at all in a relaxed kind of way. It was my way of expressing I didn't know where to stay with myself, a way of expressing that I felt highly uncomfortable. About a week later, someone who saw me said:
"You shouldn't put your hands in your pockets when you're standing next to a coffin. It's disrespectful, you know."
I like that thought. And I think of it, every time someone dies. We don't get a chance at a second life. So we better enjoy it while we're in it. Right now, right here.
And so I learned another onspoken rule of going to funerals.
Whenever there is a funeral, people speak about going to heaven. I don't really believe in heaven. Nor do I believe in hell. It like some guru in Indonesia once said:
Whenever there is a funeral, people speak about going to heaven. I don't really believe in heaven. Nor do I believe in hell. It like some guru in Indonesia once said:
"There's no such thing as heaven or hell. When we die, our souls leave our bodies, and we all go to the same place. Heaven or hell takes place in-between birth and death. It's all about the journey, not the destination"
I like that thought. And I think of it, every time someone dies. We don't get a chance at a second life. So we better enjoy it while we're in it. Right now, right here.
No comments:
Post a Comment