Today I attended the funeral of my next door neighbor, Mr. Lanyon. I never met him; he was already in a care facility when I moved in, here. But, being that the family is now technically my next door neighbor, it was suggested to me that I might attend the funeral and pay my respects to them, which I did.
With the exception of the teenage granddaughter, I was by far the youngest person there. It was interesting to note that for the majority of us there, it was simply a matter of form, standing out there around the seated family. And it was also interesting to me that, despite the fact that there were at least a dozen empty chairs behind the relatives, and some of the eldest attendees were barely upright on their own, none of the tri-pod tribe availed themselves of the extra seating. Bad form, I guess.
In addition to meeting the daughter of the deceased, I was also introduced to several people from the community, who now know who I am and where I live. Which was kind of the point of my going to the funeral in the first place: to establish that I am becoming a part of the community, and taking my part in it.
In fact, I played hookey from work to be there this morning, and I have to say that compared to ringing yet another return of The Man Groomer, or whatever ill-advised Christmas gifts people want rid of, spending a beautiful winter's morning performing a social ritual, exploring amongst the gravestones, and contemplating the meaning of life was a damn site more enjoyable. I need to learn not to wear pumps to the cemetary, but other than that, it wasn't a bad way to spend a morning.
Plus, I got lunch out of it! Heh. :)
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1 comment:
twisted. yup, that's it. Twisted. hee hee
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