Musings at a friends memorial service

I attended the memorial service for the mother of a long-time friend this past week. During the service, as is often my wont, my mind began to reflect upon the passing of this woman, her family, her friends, and the entire process of the funeral. I wanted to share some of these musings with you.

One of my all time favorite English authors was Thomas Gray. Perhaps my favorite work by Gray is "Elegy Written in a Country Courtyard." Gray is reported to have been inspired with the idea for this elegy, following the death of another close poet friend.

Gray's general theme in the elegy is to ponder the lives and deaths of the people in a country courtyard cemetery. Like Gray, I always seem to have a varied and often unrelated series of images and thoughts that run through my mind, during a memorial service.

The very mechanics of life, death, and funerals, have changed over the years. One of the very first things one notices at many funerals today is the size of the audience.

This was a kind and gentle soul that was honored this week, yet the number of people who attended barely filled the service past the halfway point. This in no reflected in anyway upon this person's character or life. She was one of those souls that everyone liked. I know this, because when she was mentioned, most people immediately displayed a generous and affectionate smile.

It was simply another affirmation of the facts of life today where age is concerned. This dear woman would have been 89 years old later this month. When you have lived a long and full life, you have outlived many of your close friends.

One of my first musings during the memorial is always what I call the "who's who?" I am rarely late to anything. I like to arrive at the service early, so I often find myself sitting watching the other mourners as they file into the chamber.

Invariably, there will be someone who walks in, who looks so familiar to me, but for which I am unable to retrieve from my memory a name. I lightly touch the shoulder of someone close by to see if they know who it is.

There is a worse brain malfunction during these events. It seems there is always another person who arrives, who I know well, but for the life of me can't remember their name either. More often than not when I ask another person close by who they are, they look at me with some degree of irritation and say, "I could have told you if you hadn't asked me, now I can't think of it!"

On the positive side, there are always a few people who you see at a memorial service, that you have not seen in years. It is like a reunion. You also see more familiar faces that you seem to see at every funeral you attend. Often we say to each other, "we have to stop meeting like this."

While I don't pay much attention to fashion, I do notice that the attire of people at funerals has changed somewhat over the years. When I was young, boys and men never even considered attending a memorial in anything but a suit and tie. Today you will see just about any type and style of men's clothing.

I do pay particular attention to the other men's hair. Over the past 20 years, my own hair has for the most part disappeared. I rarely go anywhere without my cap, but the funeral of a friend is an exception to this rule.

During a service like this one, I often gaze around the pews, and notice the many other baldheads seated in front of me. It makes me worry. Is my head that forlorn and bare?

I love the music at a memorial service. The tried and true old hymns are comforting. In this era we have a lot of new music that is often played for the audience.

At this particular memorial, a very talented local young woman sang a moving rendition of "Angel," by Sarah McLachlan. This beautiful song has a Celtic sound and lyrics, that take many of us back to the times of our distant ancestors.

After the service, the family told me that the live vocal brought both tears of sadness and happiness for them. That's what a memorial is for, the families.

While I have a variety of musings that pass through my mind at a service, as I am quite certain many of you do as well, I am there in support of the families who have lost their loved one.

In our English language, the word "RESPECT" is in my opinion not widely in use these days. Our fast paced world leaves us little time for person-to-person contact, and an email, a text, or a tweet, is not a personal contact, where a death is concerned.

At this memorial the family had put together a CD of pictures covering the life of their lost loved one. It gave me a lot of comfort to sit and watch the face of this woman in those pictures. She had such a natural smile, and it was easy to see that it was not one she had contrived or practiced. It came straight from a gentle heart.

I will be attending more memorials in the future, and someday they will have one for me. When that happens I plan to have them play the song, "Won't Get Fooled Again," by The Who.

If you are there, go ahead and enjoy the music, and by all means muse away. I don't much care what is on your mind; I'm going to just be glad you made it. It's one service I can't miss!