It was only when I saw the coffin with the framed picture of the deceased astride the coffin that the reality of the situation hit me. Four words ‘this is for real’ ran through my brain. I had no emotional investment in the funeral, it was a neighbour, I had attended as a mark of respect for the deceased, so I felt sad for the deceased and the mourning family but unless it was someone I loved I wasn’t going to be overcome with emotion. When I had heard of the passing I felt bad for the family, I recalled the deceased from my childhood, a pleasant character, honest and not prone to gossip, these are commendable qualities but I had looked upon their passing as something abstract, abstract until I saw the coffin then it hit me that ‘this is for real’
I would definitely speciify in my suicide note that there would be no funeral because the insincerity of the priest, a catholic priest to be precise was astonishing. This fucking actor with a bald pate took to the pulpit to spout drivel, i don’t know what it is about catholic clergy but I seldom see any with a full head of hair. This actor, not just an actor but a bad actor reeled of this nonsense about the promise of an afterlife for the deceased and how the first stage of life was now over and a new stage was to begin.
The service ended and the congregation moved outside. The usual verbal offerings of sympathy to the mourning family took place, I offered my own condolances and then left. As I was walking away I switched my phone back on and there was a message from a girl ‘ i have weed in my house and you can have it’, I had recalled her saying previously that she didn’t smoke weed but all of a sudden there was now weed in her house and she was using this as a pretext to meet up, ‘ cool, later in the week I’ll call down’ I replied. Life had already moved on, it didn’t stop for the deceased and it certainly won’t stop for me.