Unfortunately, there’s been a death in the family, so we have to go out of town for the funeral. I’ve only been to 2 funerals in my life, both of which I barely remember because they were years ago. One was for an elderly relative on my side, who I wasn’t particularly close to; the other was for an elderly relative on my husband’s side, who I was very fond of.
I don’t like funerals because, well, there are the obvious reasons. But mostly I feel encrusted — like a Medieval goblet covered in jewels — with a coating of awkwardness. I don’t know how to behave on these occasions. For my relative’s funeral, I didn’t feel a sense of loss, and I’m afraid that makes me heartless. For my husband’s relative, I felt sad, and cried a little bit both because of the sadness and because it seemed obligatory. You’re supposed to cry at funerals, right?
This funeral is for an elderly relative of my husband’s, who I met once — maybe twice. It’s safe to say I don’t know her. My husband is sad; I don’t feel anything, which makes me feel like a bad person.
To be honest, I don’t want to leave town again, just after we returned. I’m afraid this also makes me a bad person, but it’s how I feel. I guess all I can do is be here for my husband.
We’re leaving tomorrow and should be back Saturday. Once again, I won’t be around the blogosphere much until Sunday. I hope you all have a lovely weekend. ❤
Do funerals make you uncomfortable?