I went to a funeral yesterday, and had a great time.
A friend died earlier this week, the service was yesterday and I went to pay my respects. I didn't know her well, just someone I ran into from time to time - we took herding lessons the same place, did a lot of the same sports - and liked well enough. We weren't close, never "did lunch" or had the other over for dinner. But I think I would have liked her well enough for that.
The service started with a joke, which was followed by a round of applause. This woman had three distinct areas in her life - corporate, musical theater, dogs - and friends shared memories from each of these. She gardened and cooked and traveled... a full life by most any measure. There was a performance by singers from the theater (including a lyric soprano that was terrific), a reading by a young granddaughter, and recollections from a colleague.
The music moved many to tears, but it's the colleague's speaking that I found deeply touching. A tall, elegant man, his bearing quietly stating his gravitas, choking on his words at the loss of his dear friend. Sometimes it seems the only place men feel safe showing emotion is at sport events - cheering, shouting, hugging, pumping fists. That's not so...
Life is what we make of it. And it's short, oh so very brief. I am reminded that we don't know how long we have, how long our loved ones have, so we must make the most of every day. And hope to laugh and sing as well as cry at as few funerals as possible.
