Funeral Blues W.H. Auden

It's one of my favorite poems. In fact, over the last few years, I'm sure it is my favorite. Having attended the funerals of my dad, my mom and my mother-in-law over the last 4 years, the words have run through my mind over and over again. They are so poignant that they bear repeating:



Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,

Silence the piano and with muffled drum

Bring out the coffins, let the mourners come.



Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead,

Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead,

Put crepe bows round the whites of public doves,

Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.



He was my North, my South My East, my West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song,

I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong.



The stars are not wanted now, put out every one,

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods,

For nothing now can ever come to any good.



I first heard that poem in the movie Four Weddings and a Funeral. I love that movie because it is hilarious and heart-breaking at the same time. I think that is how funerals are for me, too.



A friend of mine told me last weekend that she had attended the funeral of a step parent-in-law with her children. On her way there, she was nervous because it was only the second funeral that she had ever attended. When she arrived inside, she wasn't sure what to do. "I started to ask what side I should sit on, and then I remembered that was what you ask at a wedding." For some reason, this struck the two of us so funny that we literally laughed until we had tears coming down our cheeks. "I guess I could have asked 'Living or dead side?', but I just plopped down anywhere " she added.



Funerals are strange customs. You are forced to publicly display some feelings that are very private. If the deceased (I hate that word...it sounds like disease) was close to you, then you have to make some very odd yet important decisions while at the same time trying to process your grief. What kind of casket do you want? Which flowers are best? What hymns should be sung? And all the time the words running through your mind are "I'll never see this person again."



When both of my parents died, I was asked to write the obituary for the newspaper. Not only was it heart-wrenching, but it was also a very pressured-filled task for me because it meant I had to sum up my parent's life in a few paragraphs. This is what many people would remember about my mom or dad, so it felt extremely important to me to "get it right". Thank goodness I have three brothers who were prepared to add and edit. This made it easier knowing that it would be a group memory of their life and hopefully a fuller picture.



At my dad's funeral, the pastor was in the middle of his eulogy when he looked over and said how happy he was that my brothers and I were there. He referred to all of my brothers by name, and then he thanked "Kim" for being there too. Now my name isn't Kim, so for a moment I was confused. Then it dawned on me that he had gotten my name wrong. For some reason, this struck me as unbelievably funny and I was forced to hide my face so that nobody could see that I was laughing. I didn't dare look up for fear that I would see one of my brothers, because I knew without a doubt that they were also laughing. To this day, my nickname is Lil' Kim. Even my mother in all of her grief had a good laugh about that.



When my mom died a few months ago, the whole process felt sadly familiar. The flowers, the music, the obituary...I had been through it twice the past few years, and one would think that would make it easier. But the difference was, I did not have my mom there to cry to and talk with. I was alone, which in the end, is how we all are. Faith gives us hope and peace. Our family gives us strength and love. But as the poem says, "I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong."



Of course I believe that love lasts forever in a "see you some day" spiritual kind of way, but the day to day kind where you pick up the phone and say hello is the one that you miss.



And so today, I am going to welcome my son home with a big hug, smile at my family, call some friends, make some wrongs right, say I'm sorry where I need to...and be happy that there are no funerals to attend...



So until tomorrow, when the anniversary of so many sad days are past and I can talk about something a bit more uplifting...