The Best Funeral Ever, so far.

I love this painting.  and white people have boring funerals.

After my grandmother's funeral debacle I started thinking about funerals I've attended.  And this one was ......interesting. 

About 10 years ago a woman and a man we assumed was her husband had just moved into our neighborhood.  A couple of weeks later the man died unexpectedly in Atlanta and was brought here to be buried.  Our neighborhood, a very small cove of ten houses felt terrible for the woman. None of us knew her very well only through the occasional wave from our cars or the front porch.   Three of us women decided to attend the funeral to show our support for the wife.

The funeral was somewhere in Memphis.  I couldn't find my way back there if my life depended on it.  Our group arrived about thirty minutes before the service was scheduled to begin.  We went inside the church and found a pew toward the back.  As we sat there we started wondering why no one else was coming inside.  The open casket was in the front of the church but no one was paying their respects.  We pondered amongst ourselves if we had misunderstood coming in but we decided to stay in our seats.



And I'd like to look like her too



And then a line started forming - the mourners began filing in from the back of the church making a line to the casket.  The array of stunning funeral wear was a sight to behold.  I'd never seen so many hats. Hats with feathers.  Hats with sequins.  Hats with sculptures. It looked like Broadway production.  I was so jealous that we don't wear hats like that in our church.  I love hats! In fact I've put a requirement that all women attending my funeral must wear very flashy hats. Possibly with a live chicken sitting on the top.     As each person made their way to the front they visited with the body.  I mean held lengthy conversations.  More than a few took pictures with the deceased.  One video taped it.   It was weird. And still no one took a seat.  Instead they all filed back out into the parking lot and re-cued the line.   We were the only three women left in the church.  Then they marched two by two into the church amening and Jesusing all the way down the aisle and then filling the pews from the front to the back.  Still ablaze in pageantry.  There was wailing and shouting.  And the obligatory woman passing out.

As the service started the minister was preaching about Brother Smith that had died.  At this point we realized that the last name didn't match the woman on our street.  They weren't married at all.  Or maybe we were at the wrong funeral.  Too late to leave, we were already committed.  Then the minister started calling out sinners IN THE CONGREGATION by name.  I wondered how that would go over at our church and found myself completely amused at the thought and then terrified. as I imagined my own name being shouted out --- MISS BURRISS you are a sinner!!!!  I'm sure I would be sinning in my head alone as I was being called out.  ( right now even......STOP SATAN)  Several people got up to witness their faith OR speak about the deceased.   About 3 hours into the service, yes- three hours, a woman came up from the back and announced that she had something to say.  She talked about the deceased then said " and I know Brother Smith would want me to share the song I just released on my new CD and so I will sing that now."  The organist didn't miss a beat and followed along with her as she belted out a tune that was "available for purchase".    I couldn't stop smiling.  And it was amazing.  I hoped the dead guy was happy. 

There was so much energy in that little church we wanted to stay until the service was over but there didn't seem to be a plan for it to end any time soon.  We had to sneak out back of the church and get home before, well before the next day.   

I'd say it was memorable in a good way.  Different but still much better than the one I just came from. 

Here's to you GRANDMA !!!    May you be wearing the fanciest hat and singing in heaven's choir!!!

Love you,  miss you.