Funeral Visitation Musings

A funeral home visitation was on my agenda for today. Its not often that I go to one-----I have to feel a connection to the main survivor, or what is the point, really. Visitations can be rather lame. This time an older man had passed away after collapsing of a heart attack on his first visit to a new casino in the area. He had wanted to see the new facility.....and, ironically, our pastor had preached against gambling a couple weeks ago......so there you go. I'm just kidding......I don't believe the man was struck down because he was at a casino! I have known his wife for a long time, and feel a Christian bond with her, so after convincing my daughter accompany me, away we went to the funeral home.

After signing the guestbook, we stood in line dutifully gawking at all the flower arrangements and other memorial gifts. Wow.....lots of them were lovely outdoor decor for a lawn or garden. There was a large stone cross with the Lord's Prayer etched on it, and a very heavy stone birdbath filled with flowers and an angel. Its been awhile since I've been to a visitation, so these gift ideas seemed new to me. They were beautiful, as if anyone really needs such things, though. You really see alot of that kind of stuff for sale nowadays in the stores. Everyone has so many decorations inside their houses; thus, the decor makers have turned their attention to yards and gardens.

The quiet line of sympathy moved ever so slowly by a table of photos, a wedding book, and other momentos of life. Finally, we were able to hug the wife and visit for a few minutes. She seemed to be holding up well. Her children don't know me, but I introduced myself to one of them.....that was enough.....that's when it starts getting lame......when you are offering sympathy to people who don't know you, and look at you quizzically. Then its time to quietly slip out of the crowd and head for home.

Actually, I would rather not have a visitation when I die-----as if I will have any say in the matter. The thought of people shuffling by and peering down into the casket at me and saying, "Oh, she looks so nice" or "My, she really doesn't look very good"......what is the point of that?! Where did that custom ever originate?

The first visitation I remember going to was when I was five years old. A playmate of mine, a four-year-old boy, had fallen out of the cab of his dad's grain truck and been run over, right in his own farm yard. I remember hearing his mother talk about it.....how her little boy had died in her arms. At the funeral home, my dad was holding me up to look into the white casket. The boy had a nice suit on, and in his lapel pocket was a stick of Doublemint gum. My five-year-old mind thought, "Wow, he is lucky to have his own full stick of gum." I always had to put up with getting only a half a stick at a time. A couple years ago I visited this little boy's grave for the first time since his death many years ago. His dad now rests beside him.

My parents have told me many times that this is what I said when I saw my little friend in the casket long ago: "Well, it was nice while it lasted." I don't remember saying those words, but they say that I did.