E,
What a terrific word! Cremations.
Let's hope that we never find ourselves side by side at the funeral of some mutual SI friend. I, too, am an inappropriate giggler. Although sometimes I think not so inappropriate, but healthy.
At my mother's funeral, I cracked up over the organ, which sounded like a skating rink, and played everything so lugubriously and with so much vibrato, I couldn't help it; it was just too funny. I could only hope everyone thought I was beside myself with grief. And the boys were hitting me trying to tell me not to sing so loud on the hymns, which I always do- I try- I start out soft and then I get carried away, and they hate it. That seemed funny, too. But cremains, especially forgetting them, would have had me rolling on the floor. Isn't there an expression, "SHe'd be late for her own funeral"? Your mother missed hers completely.
I cried in the movie "One True Thing" but at the same time I was thinking, oh, get a grip, people. Everyone seemed so unrelievedly miserable to me. Except for Meryl Streep, who was the one dying. She was probably glad to get away from that ingrate daughter and that two-timing egoist of a husband. Maybe you have to be serious to be considered a deep and profound thinker. Someone told me once, after one of my not so profound comments, that I was a shallow person; it wounded me deeply. I believed it- probably still do. On the other hand, sometimes I'm very grateful for the ability to be shallow.
There's probably a name for people like us. But I don't want to know it. |
