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Me and my sister Tabby have had a strange week filled with stress, and weird customs and etiquette, that go along with a funeral.  There were times of comic relief usually provided by our Mom, and of course, me.

It all started last Sunday, with the news my biological father had passed away.  I didn’t really know him and always felt I was better off because of it.  My mother is in Oklahoma with my niece, so she sends my sister over to break the news to me.  My sister even had  tears in her eyes as she proceeds with the news, not knowing how I will react.  My reaction was extremely indifferent which really didn’t surprise my sister, I thought it was a very fitting day for a man who never knew his only child, to die on; Father’s Day.   Unbeknownst to us, my mother has called my first cousin, whom I don’t know, where I lived so she can talk to me in her time of grief.  For the people who don’t know me, I am not a real fan of most people and prefer to not discuss my personal feelings with people I don’t know.  I was feeling awkward enough because she hugged me and I am usually repulsed my uninvited human touch.  I must have my personal space.  My sister said I did really well until I all of a sudden I stand up and say  “It was nice meeting you and hope we can do it again.”  Well I don’t remember it happening like that but oh well mission accomplished.  It turns out she is pretty all right but I had reached my tolerance level of “uncomfortableness”.

My mother says I have to go to the funeral uh  NO, she knows I do not do funerals.  To me they are a bizarre ritual that to me seems unbearable.  I mean who comes up with the “funeral process” anyway.  After a bit of negotiation, I agree to go to visitation.  Tune in tomorrow  for more details as my saga continues.

It all makes perfect sense now!  My mom and sister are very emotional and touchy, feely  people.  I AM NOT!  I am like these people, there is no crying at my father’s visitation, and I was only barely touched once.  I loved it.  The only thing I did not like was the frequent mention of me looking like him!

I didn’t go to the funeral and neither did my mother.  I get a frantic call on the day of my father’s funeral, its my mother.  Her father is dying…..to be continued.


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  1. Thanks for sharing your story. My own traditions and those of my friends, family, in-laws for instance are different but I look for what I can take away from them. Some of us are religious and some not. The feelings though are pretty much the same. The rituals, though often so very traditional and comforting, aren’t really the thing as much as the community I’ve found.

  2. In our family we do memorial services, not funerals. I’ve been to plenty of them and participated actively at four of them. At those four, two for my children, one for my dad, and one for our close friend, I shed a few tears myself. I did know my dad. My mom’s and my son’s were held outside, with closed caskets. I didn’t consider any of these barbaric, but a fitting way to get closure and say a final goodbye among friends. Memorial services are a way to share memories so that all present get to know the departed in a new way, with each person supplying a different piece of the puzzle.

  3. I have to agree – our funeral traditions are somewhat barbaric! I will be interested in following your story. and I agree with Lesley, thank you for sharing your personal story.

  4. A great personal read. Thank you for sharing.

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Meet The Author

Alice Martin

I am sort of an outdoor person and I love animals of all kinds, especially, dogs. I am a Vet Tech at a busy small town vet clinic. I really love what I do, because it is something different every day. I have two sons, TJ is 22 yrs old and Ty is 16 yrs old. TJ gave me a beautiful granddaughter named Lexie, and she is 2. I am outspoken when I need to be and if you are my friend--I will stand up for you.

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