Thoughts: Deaths, Funerals, Happy things
I was just watching a Korean drama (Family Honor, 2008) where a family was holding a traditional korean funeral, and thus I began thinking of death, funerals and the like.
You know, I read Mick Harte was Here by Barbara Park (flawless book by flawless author) when I was around 10. The protagonist was a 13 year-old girl coming to terms with the death of her younger brother, Mick, the unseen character of whom much of the story revolves. He'd died in a traffic accident, and I remember Mick's funeral clearly. Everyone had arrived crying, and slowly as people trailed to the microphone up front, the stories turned humorous, from the school janitor sharing his story of how he had to slather Crisco onto Mick's hair because he'd gotten his head stuck in a fence, to Mick's kindergarten teacher telling the church about how Mick had started spazzing on his own onstage in the middle of a school production because 'the music got in his pants'. The church rumbled with the laughter of the attendees. This boy got people laughing in his own service. From lamentation to rapture. Amazing.
That was the first time I thought about the effect I had on other people. Mike's funeral reflected upon his true nature, and the effect he had on the people around him. You affect people even after your death, so in a way, you live on through their thoughts and memories of you.
In a slightly unrelated but totally relevant note, a scene in Shakespeare's Twelfth Night also left a deep impression on me (it's the only scene from Shakespeare that I can still recall word for word):
Fool: Good madonna, why mourn'st thou?
Olivia: Good Fool, for my brother's death.
Fool: I think his soul is in hell, madonna.
Olivia: I know his soul is in heaven, fool.
Fool: The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your brother's soul,
being in heaven. Take away the fool, gentlemen!
I love these couple of lines, as much as I dislike Shakespeare. Shouldn't we all honor the death of a loved one this way? Not by weeping and suffering, but by celebrating and cherishing the fact that they had lived and had lived long enough to have included us in their life and brought us happiness? Of course, this is probably easier said than done.
Regardless, I'd like my funeral to be slightly different from the ones I've observed so far. I'd like people (and hopefully there'd at least be people attending) to wear the most colorful happy clothes in their closet, and bring along with them a fun memory they shared with me. That'll be pretty awesome. I'd like my funeral, the last occasion i'd be "present" at, to be as exuberant and heartwarming as my birthday celebrations had been, hopefully a fitting reflection of the joy and inspiration I'd brought others in the flesh while I had the chance :)
You know, I read Mick Harte was Here by Barbara Park (flawless book by flawless author) when I was around 10. The protagonist was a 13 year-old girl coming to terms with the death of her younger brother, Mick, the unseen character of whom much of the story revolves. He'd died in a traffic accident, and I remember Mick's funeral clearly. Everyone had arrived crying, and slowly as people trailed to the microphone up front, the stories turned humorous, from the school janitor sharing his story of how he had to slather Crisco onto Mick's hair because he'd gotten his head stuck in a fence, to Mick's kindergarten teacher telling the church about how Mick had started spazzing on his own onstage in the middle of a school production because 'the music got in his pants'. The church rumbled with the laughter of the attendees. This boy got people laughing in his own service. From lamentation to rapture. Amazing.
That was the first time I thought about the effect I had on other people. Mike's funeral reflected upon his true nature, and the effect he had on the people around him. You affect people even after your death, so in a way, you live on through their thoughts and memories of you.
In a slightly unrelated but totally relevant note, a scene in Shakespeare's Twelfth Night also left a deep impression on me (it's the only scene from Shakespeare that I can still recall word for word):
Fool: Good madonna, why mourn'st thou?
Olivia: Good Fool, for my brother's death.
Fool: I think his soul is in hell, madonna.
Olivia: I know his soul is in heaven, fool.
Fool: The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your brother's soul,
being in heaven. Take away the fool, gentlemen!
I love these couple of lines, as much as I dislike Shakespeare. Shouldn't we all honor the death of a loved one this way? Not by weeping and suffering, but by celebrating and cherishing the fact that they had lived and had lived long enough to have included us in their life and brought us happiness? Of course, this is probably easier said than done.
Regardless, I'd like my funeral to be slightly different from the ones I've observed so far. I'd like people (and hopefully there'd at least be people attending) to wear the most colorful happy clothes in their closet, and bring along with them a fun memory they shared with me. That'll be pretty awesome. I'd like my funeral, the last occasion i'd be "present" at, to be as exuberant and heartwarming as my birthday celebrations had been, hopefully a fitting reflection of the joy and inspiration I'd brought others in the flesh while I had the chance :)