I always like to describe my days as adventures but that seems unfitting for yesterday, I went to a funeral. Perhaps it is still appropriate, Siegfried’s funeral expanded into Wagner’s Ring Cycle. My friend David’s wife Terrie died. It was both after a prolonged illness and sudden. We thought she was through the worst, she looked and acted fine the last time I saw her, then took a turn for the worse. I didn’t know Terrie well, but she was lovely, and I love David, so I made the trek to Bay Ridge for the funeral. I cut the timing a bit too close. As I was getting dressed, I couldn’t find my suit jacket, it was mixed in with my shirts, so I took the train after the one I had planned on. The funeral was at 2:00 and I arrived at 2:03, I thought that was fine, that people would still be taking their seats. As I approached the front door, I heard the music start and people were singing Ode to Joy, my favorite piece of music. The church was packed but I was able to find a seat but not find the place in the hymnal fast enough to sing along. I would have if I could have.
I think this was my first non-Jewish funeral. That seems odd but I can’t remember any others. This was my second mass, this was Episcopal, the other was Catholic. They are similar; the most notable difference is that the priest was a woman. My mind was split between being there to support David and observing a different culture. The difference in the service was how much emphasis the priest put on the Afterlife. She discussed what Terrie was doing in Heaven. The rabbi and parents’ funerals pointed out how the Judaism deemphasizes the Afterlife. It’s a concept alien to Judaism’s origin that was brought in by the Greeks and Romans. I was pleased that the priest made jokes. There is never more of a need of humor than in times of grief. What she said about Terrie was beautiful and I got to learn things about her that I should have known when she was alive.
For the most part I did not take part in the audience participation. I would have sung along to the Ode to Joy, and I did sing along to Amazing Grace. That was appropriate as I have sung the song with Terrie at the Sunset Singing Circle. I stood when everyone stood and sat when everyone sat. I meditated when we had the thoughtful silence, which seemed the right thing to do, and it always does me good.
I call it a funeral but perhaps it technically wasn’t, Terrie was cremated as were both my parents. After the mass we followed the priest out to the garden where Terrie’s ashes were interred. I through dirt over the ashes. Then we went into the most Jewish part of the service, the reception with light refreshments. The only one I knew there was David. I finally faced my anxiety and introduced myself to the people I was sitting across from, Tom, Connie, and Carla. I made an effort to remember their names. Tom is Terrie’s brother and Connie his wife. Carla like me was there by herself. Talking to strangers is always easier and more rewarding than I fear. Then I got some one-on-one time with David. Being there for him was the entire purpose of the day. I don’t write much about him here but he’s one of my favorite people. When I’m involved with something and need volunteers I ask David, he carols and sunset sings with me. He writes about music. I just found out that he interviewed Charming Disaster, the band I just discovered last month, because the world is tiny. I’ve seen him act on stage. He’s a Macy’s Santa. He’s carved his own place in the world, and we shouldn’t wait for people to die to sing their praises.
I could go on to write another essay on death. I’m not at all morbid, exactly the opposite, but other people’s attitudes towards death make me think about my own. I’ve done that before and I’m sure I’ll do it again, but not today. I’ll leave you with my favorite discussion of death, it’s by Tom Stoppard.
Wise Madness 