I just got back from the funeral home. Never in all of my life will I understand this morbid and grotesque custom of people gathering around a dead body. It traumatises me! Why do we do this? It's just plain creepy! Two freaking hours of standing around a dead person who has been pumped full of formaldahyde and painted with so much pancake make-up that you barely recognise him making small talk! It makes me feel uncomfortable, but mostly it makes absolutely no sense. And there will be more of it tomorrow. Thank heaven that I made plans for tomorrow prior to this which I could use as an excuse to get out of it. Take pity on "the estranged one." He's got to go through six hours of doing this tomorrow.
Don't get me wrong, my brother in-law was a dear man and I will miss him very much. I've shed plenty of tears. I understand the need to say good-bye. I understand also, the need of others to express sympathy for the family, but there has got to be a better way.
This has just been a little difficult to handle. I keep feeling like I'm going to wake up in the morning and find out it was all a bad dream, but I know that I'm not. This really happened. He's really gone. Still, I know that I'm supposed to belive that he's gone to a better place. One day we will meet again and laugh over old times...
"Break the bread, drink the wine
In my heart you'll live forever.
The time to go is never right
When we say goodbye..."
