Took my camera on my trip at the end of week to Michigan, but then I realized a funeral may not be the best place to have a camera.
At the funeral, I was trying to read expressions of the children who were present. Honestly, I think they handled things a lot better than the adults, and not because they were too young to understand what happened to Grandma. Their attitude was more, well, should we stop playing? Should we stop doing the things that we normally do? And they didn't, which was great. They drew pictures with love notes to Grandma, and prayed by the casket, and it was fine. I wouldn't want my kids to be afraid of death, either.
I was reminded, though, that there are so many ways to deal with it. There was a possibility that the wake could have been done in typical Irish fashion, with lots of wailing, beer, and the casket right next to the table where everyone is sitting and eating. Heck it's weird to me, but that's how the Irish do it. They want it all out in the open, and sort of pretending that the person is still alive.
I'm more afraid of not dying "well." The romance of a heroic death is appealing, but that could potentially involve a lot of pain, and who knows how one would deal with that, right in the moment?
It was weird to hear that some of my friends' parents have shared with their children on funeral arrangement. It's jarring to think that's more of a possibility. Yet another sign that I'm getting old.
Off to Madison on Saturday.
