Funeral Etiquette
So I had my cousin Reggie's wake and funeral the last two days, and while it was upsetting, it was not what you think. Sure, I was sad, but I left both generally irritated and ticked off by people.
The turn out for the wake and funeral was incredible, first off. Hundreds upon hundreds of people flooded the Burns Funeral Home in Billerica, so much that the Funeral Home was full and we had all spilled out into the parking lot and sidewalk. While there was a lot of family there, both from the MacDonald side and the Lorbes side, he did have a lot of locals and friends show up in astounding numbers. But the more I listened to them, the more it sounded like a popularity appearance for some of these people.
One of Reggie's better friends said it best. "Wow, nice to see that some of the people who met Reggie through a friend one time in their life came down to make an appearance and force out a tear or two." At first, I thought, "Wow, that was cold," but the more I listened to these people, I was saddened that it was true.
My darling Nikki said to me today, "Well, that's what happens when a young person dies." And while I agreed for a moment, I was reminded of my cousin Mike DiGiantomasso's wake and funeral a few years back (he was 25). His wake and funeral were also large, but I did not have that same feeling of irritation from the attendees. The mood was very somber and people didn't seem like they were there to chit-chat or gossip. Maybe I wasn't as aware of it back then, but this is the general feeling I had.
Outside the funeral home, I was informed by my cousins that there was a girl there supposedly had a letter from Reggie from right before he died. They were not entirely sure as to what the contents were, but she was raising hell for a bit in the funeral home (before I showed up) by confronting family members with it (mostly the Lorbes side) and pissing people off. Good thing I wasn't there. I'd be in jail for throwing a bitch into traffic. I don't care what was in the letter - right, wrong, what have you. There's a time and place for that shit, and it is NOT at a wake/funeral. No excuse.
Anyway, the wake was a large gathering of Billerica's finest gossip-slingers and people who seemed to have the "Oo! A wake! A perfect place to dress like a common street whore and show off my tits and tattoos!"
The funeral was this morning, also in Billerica. I was angry at my darling girlfriend for a little bit for making me late, but that would pass. I was just in an irritable spitfire mood as it was. But I was glad to see that we did not miss much of the morning mass. So, politely, we walked into the church and took a seat in one of the pews far in the back and off to the side so as not to disrupt anything.
Apparently, we were a couple of the only conscientious ones to show up during the mass. Dozens of people were later than us, some of them even striding right down the center aisle - dressed like assholes, hobos, and whores - while the priest is in the middle of talking. All the while, they are chit-chatting amongst themselves and being the over-dramatic attention-whoring douchebags I had come to expect from the wake. Now, I am NOT saying that these people were not legitimately saddened. Reggie touched a lot of people. What I AM saying is that they are fucking assholes with no sense of courtesy whatsoever.
The mass continues, more whores and douchebags trickling in as they go. Now, I know not all of you may have a Christian-background. I even forget most of my casually-Catholic upbringing, but I am somewhat accustomed to the Catholic calisthenics of "sit, kneel, stand, sit, stand". Also, when the "padded kneeling bar" is down on the floor for you to kneel on and you put it back? Don't just flip it up with your foot and let it crash into the woodwork you stupid bastards! How rude! The priest is trying to talk about the mysteries of suicide and the frailties of the human psyche when at our lowest points in our life, and these fuckheads are just flipping up the kneeling pads like they were scoring a goal for the World fucking Cup.
I never wanted to haul off and punch so many people in my life save for some later-year WPI parties at Noah's place. But, I knew better because I know that all of the friends would band together and choke me out with their collective stink of perfumes and colognes and probably stab me with used needles from some of their heroin addictions.
Oh yeah, as an aside: Friends don't let friends shoot up heroin. Of course, that is assuming that the friends aren't shooting up heroin themselves. Some people will say "Well, it was his (Reggie's) choice." And to those people I will say, "After you pick your teeth up off of the ground, I will have you know that a little encouragement never hurt. Now go away before you bleed on me." Heroin's a fucking killer. And before some of you spout off how cigarettes are more addictive and shit like that - fuck you. Cigarettes didn't help lead to the death of my cousin. If all of these so-called friends of Reg had half a fucking brain cell, at least a few of them in the masses should have at least had the talk with him and said, "Hey, cut the shit, asshole. You're fucking your shit up." But, that wouldn't have been a trendy, popular thing, now would it?
One girl was at the church with a strapless dress on. Her tits were practically falling out of the fucking thing and the bottom of her skirt barely covered the bottom of her ass cheeks. Really? I mean, really?! At a fucking church? Or anywhere in public for that matter? Well, I hope her stripping career is going well (which, of course, generally means displaying the goods before doing side-deals to suck cock and fuck for money).
There was another girl who sat a few pews in front of me. I believe she was with her mom. She appeared to be in dire need of attention though. Every time she managed to squeeze out a tear, she seemed to look around as though to try to get people's attention. It was as if to say, "See? I'm sad too. Can you see me? Look at me. I'm crying. I'm as cool as the rest of you in the Hobo-Asshole-Whore Collective." One of Reggie's cousins on his mom's side of the family sniffed out a box of tissues nearby and, very politely and quietly, walked around the back of the congregation and over to the side where the box of tissues were, gently pulled out three tissues, and headed back to his seat via the same route. He was probably doing it for his wife or, God forbid, Reggie's mom Cherry.
Once that was done, then it was the "I am sad too" fucking Olympics. Trashily-dressed Street Whore #23 click-clacked her way up to the tissues, ripping out 10-12 tissues as she went, and made sure to let out a Hollywood sob as she walked back. Of course, I don't imagine there were any tears - wouldn't want to ruin that heavily-caked on mascara job after all!
Nearly right after that, Attention Whore #2 sitting in front of us made sure to get people's attention as she hunted down the tissue box, pulling out tissue after tissue like it was a fucking magician pulling the tied-together colored handkerchiefs out of their sleeve. In between burying her face into the tissues and displaying her Fifth-Grade Musical acting, she made sure to smile and wave "hi" to six or so people before sitting down with her mom to continue squeaking out another tear or two.
What I'm saying is this - be respectful. I'm not saying to abide by all of the church rules or anything like that. But abide by common sense, you fuckwits. When people go up for communion to eat some Jeez-its - DON'T stand in the fucking aisle for your little gossip groups or pow-wow with your douchebag friends to have group hugs. DON'T hold up the lines with your little hug therapy sessions when people are leaving the church and trying to thank the priest for his surprisingly-touching and empathic sermon. And for the love of God, don't you dare cut me the fuck off in the parking lot so you can drive like a complete asshole with crowds of old people and children around. (I remember you, you beat up Toyota Camry and the tattoo-covered asshole driving it. I'll fucking run you off the road the next time I see you.)
And through all of this - my family was respectful, courteous, and altogether sane. Even my cousin Danny. ;)
The turn out for the wake and funeral was incredible, first off. Hundreds upon hundreds of people flooded the Burns Funeral Home in Billerica, so much that the Funeral Home was full and we had all spilled out into the parking lot and sidewalk. While there was a lot of family there, both from the MacDonald side and the Lorbes side, he did have a lot of locals and friends show up in astounding numbers. But the more I listened to them, the more it sounded like a popularity appearance for some of these people.
One of Reggie's better friends said it best. "Wow, nice to see that some of the people who met Reggie through a friend one time in their life came down to make an appearance and force out a tear or two." At first, I thought, "Wow, that was cold," but the more I listened to these people, I was saddened that it was true.
My darling Nikki said to me today, "Well, that's what happens when a young person dies." And while I agreed for a moment, I was reminded of my cousin Mike DiGiantomasso's wake and funeral a few years back (he was 25). His wake and funeral were also large, but I did not have that same feeling of irritation from the attendees. The mood was very somber and people didn't seem like they were there to chit-chat or gossip. Maybe I wasn't as aware of it back then, but this is the general feeling I had.
Outside the funeral home, I was informed by my cousins that there was a girl there supposedly had a letter from Reggie from right before he died. They were not entirely sure as to what the contents were, but she was raising hell for a bit in the funeral home (before I showed up) by confronting family members with it (mostly the Lorbes side) and pissing people off. Good thing I wasn't there. I'd be in jail for throwing a bitch into traffic. I don't care what was in the letter - right, wrong, what have you. There's a time and place for that shit, and it is NOT at a wake/funeral. No excuse.
Anyway, the wake was a large gathering of Billerica's finest gossip-slingers and people who seemed to have the "Oo! A wake! A perfect place to dress like a common street whore and show off my tits and tattoos!"
The funeral was this morning, also in Billerica. I was angry at my darling girlfriend for a little bit for making me late, but that would pass. I was just in an irritable spitfire mood as it was. But I was glad to see that we did not miss much of the morning mass. So, politely, we walked into the church and took a seat in one of the pews far in the back and off to the side so as not to disrupt anything.
Apparently, we were a couple of the only conscientious ones to show up during the mass. Dozens of people were later than us, some of them even striding right down the center aisle - dressed like assholes, hobos, and whores - while the priest is in the middle of talking. All the while, they are chit-chatting amongst themselves and being the over-dramatic attention-whoring douchebags I had come to expect from the wake. Now, I am NOT saying that these people were not legitimately saddened. Reggie touched a lot of people. What I AM saying is that they are fucking assholes with no sense of courtesy whatsoever.
The mass continues, more whores and douchebags trickling in as they go. Now, I know not all of you may have a Christian-background. I even forget most of my casually-Catholic upbringing, but I am somewhat accustomed to the Catholic calisthenics of "sit, kneel, stand, sit, stand". Also, when the "padded kneeling bar" is down on the floor for you to kneel on and you put it back? Don't just flip it up with your foot and let it crash into the woodwork you stupid bastards! How rude! The priest is trying to talk about the mysteries of suicide and the frailties of the human psyche when at our lowest points in our life, and these fuckheads are just flipping up the kneeling pads like they were scoring a goal for the World fucking Cup.
I never wanted to haul off and punch so many people in my life save for some later-year WPI parties at Noah's place. But, I knew better because I know that all of the friends would band together and choke me out with their collective stink of perfumes and colognes and probably stab me with used needles from some of their heroin addictions.
Oh yeah, as an aside: Friends don't let friends shoot up heroin. Of course, that is assuming that the friends aren't shooting up heroin themselves. Some people will say "Well, it was his (Reggie's) choice." And to those people I will say, "After you pick your teeth up off of the ground, I will have you know that a little encouragement never hurt. Now go away before you bleed on me." Heroin's a fucking killer. And before some of you spout off how cigarettes are more addictive and shit like that - fuck you. Cigarettes didn't help lead to the death of my cousin. If all of these so-called friends of Reg had half a fucking brain cell, at least a few of them in the masses should have at least had the talk with him and said, "Hey, cut the shit, asshole. You're fucking your shit up." But, that wouldn't have been a trendy, popular thing, now would it?
One girl was at the church with a strapless dress on. Her tits were practically falling out of the fucking thing and the bottom of her skirt barely covered the bottom of her ass cheeks. Really? I mean, really?! At a fucking church? Or anywhere in public for that matter? Well, I hope her stripping career is going well (which, of course, generally means displaying the goods before doing side-deals to suck cock and fuck for money).
There was another girl who sat a few pews in front of me. I believe she was with her mom. She appeared to be in dire need of attention though. Every time she managed to squeeze out a tear, she seemed to look around as though to try to get people's attention. It was as if to say, "See? I'm sad too. Can you see me? Look at me. I'm crying. I'm as cool as the rest of you in the Hobo-Asshole-Whore Collective." One of Reggie's cousins on his mom's side of the family sniffed out a box of tissues nearby and, very politely and quietly, walked around the back of the congregation and over to the side where the box of tissues were, gently pulled out three tissues, and headed back to his seat via the same route. He was probably doing it for his wife or, God forbid, Reggie's mom Cherry.
Once that was done, then it was the "I am sad too" fucking Olympics. Trashily-dressed Street Whore #23 click-clacked her way up to the tissues, ripping out 10-12 tissues as she went, and made sure to let out a Hollywood sob as she walked back. Of course, I don't imagine there were any tears - wouldn't want to ruin that heavily-caked on mascara job after all!
Nearly right after that, Attention Whore #2 sitting in front of us made sure to get people's attention as she hunted down the tissue box, pulling out tissue after tissue like it was a fucking magician pulling the tied-together colored handkerchiefs out of their sleeve. In between burying her face into the tissues and displaying her Fifth-Grade Musical acting, she made sure to smile and wave "hi" to six or so people before sitting down with her mom to continue squeaking out another tear or two.
What I'm saying is this - be respectful. I'm not saying to abide by all of the church rules or anything like that. But abide by common sense, you fuckwits. When people go up for communion to eat some Jeez-its - DON'T stand in the fucking aisle for your little gossip groups or pow-wow with your douchebag friends to have group hugs. DON'T hold up the lines with your little hug therapy sessions when people are leaving the church and trying to thank the priest for his surprisingly-touching and empathic sermon. And for the love of God, don't you dare cut me the fuck off in the parking lot so you can drive like a complete asshole with crowds of old people and children around. (I remember you, you beat up Toyota Camry and the tattoo-covered asshole driving it. I'll fucking run you off the road the next time I see you.)
And through all of this - my family was respectful, courteous, and altogether sane. Even my cousin Danny. ;)