It's often said that funerals are for the living, and I think that's true. I found out how true this spring with the death of two elderly relatives who were very close to me.
We all know that dying is as much a part of life as living, but we really aren't comfortable talking about it. If we can, we avoid it. Until we can't.
There's no pretending that dying is easy. It's not. Or that anything really prepares you for the reality of it, because that's not true either. It's still a shock even when the person is old and in steep decline. Sometimes the punishment of advanced old age is that it steals the person's spirit before death takes the body.
The funeral is a way to bring back that spirit, to make those last hard years of enfeeblement and clouded thinking disappear.
Even planning the funeral is a way of reaching back, because in honoring someone's wishes, you have to recall long-ago conversations and shared memories to create the right ceremony, the one the person would wanted.
Then it's time to write a eulogy. This may seem like a depressing task, but it turns out to be the opposite. It involves concentrated remembering. You reach back to earlier times and get to revisit someone you knew for a long time but who had changed to a different person as age took its toll.
The act of writing brings the person back to life for a short time, both for you and for the friends and relatives at the funeral.
Rest in peace.
I'm Deborah Booth, and that's my perspective.
