Humor: Funerals
by Cathy A Montville
My family tries to find a bit of humor in everything we face in life. It isn't always easy. It certainly helps to make things better, if only for a moment. My mother didn't try to be funny; she was naturally hilarious. Even when she was facing her last days on earth, she made me laugh. Surprising to some, it happened during the process of making her funeral arrangements.
The Money Tree
Mom was not a wealthy woman. In reality, she was anything but wealthy. She lived her entire life thinking that money grew on trees. My father use to say, "If money grew on trees, all our branches would be bare."
Her manner of thinking would be no different when it came time to plan her funeral. This was two weeks before she passed over. My mother believed she was rich right to the end.
The Undertaker
"We have to talk about the undertaker." That's what my mom said to me that day. She was a modern woman all her life. Even at 76, she was still liberated. I was stunned by the word "undertaker." I hadn’t heard that word since I was a kid.
I told her no one called it that anymore. “That’s an outdated term,” I quipped. “It’s now called a funeral director.” She said, “I really don’t give a damn what the proper term is.” She was ready to make her preparations.
Lack of Insurance
My mother retired from a state job. She’d held that job for half her life. She had exceptional health benefits. However, her life insurance policy was inadequate by today's standards. I knew it would not cover the debt she was leaving behind, never mind a funeral. She was well aware of that as well. It is no secret that funeral expenses are off the chart.
My mom had made absolutely no prior provisions for a funeral. She talked about it many times. She never got around to it, though. That’s probably because she didn’t plan on dying. You have to remember; she thought she was rich, too.
Putting Off the Talk
Talking to my beloved mother about her funeral was something I dreaded. I tried to avoid the inevitable. I knew she was dying…she knew she was dying. We didn’t talk about it…as if that would stop what was happening.
We had to get this done, though, no matter how much it pained us to do so. This was the hardest part of the death process for me. I needed to know what my mother wanted in the end. Nevertheless, I didn't know how we were going to be able to speak the words.
Surprising Revelations
After my mom said she didn't give a damn whether it was a funeral director or an undertaker, I knew there was no turning back. We were making the arrangements. To my surprise, my mom was not the least bit timid about discussing her funeral. I will always be grateful for this.
In fact, she was almost nonchalant about how she wanted everything to be before she was whisked away to her final resting place. My mother was sitting on the edge of her hospital bed dangling her feet. The only thing missing was a delicate antique fan. She could have been fanning herself like a queen planning a celebrated ball.
She didn’t mention the not-so-big amount of money she had for her funeral. Mom did tell me the funeral home she had decided on. I was surprised. I couldn’t believe she’d given this “any” thought. I was amazed because my mother always told me everything: except that she had actually given thought to her inevitable death someday.
My mother not only knew which funeral home she wanted; she stunned me with the announcement that she had visited there. "I went there and I really loved it. There is a beautiful bathroom. Scott was so nice, and it's a lovely place," she said. Scott? There is a beautiful bathroom? I had to ask, "Do you seriously care about the bathroom, Mom?" "Well, I did that day, but I really don't care now," she responded.
The Gala Funeral
Not one to be shy when it came to things she wanted, even if she couldn't afford it, which was always, my mother gave me the details of her funeral. Intricate details I might add. And here I thought she hadn't given this part of her life any thought. She was reeling off all the things she expected at her funeral. I was taking notes like it was her festivity list. I felt like a genuine party planner.
At the same time, I was carefully crunching numbers in my head. Oh boy, this is going to be a lot of money, a real lot. How am I going to pull this off? I was lost in thought for a bit when my mother's voice pulled me back to earth. "I want a bagpiper, too," she said. I looked at her and simply said, "Wow!"
The Priceless Moment
My mother looked at me like I had ten heads, and questioned, "Wow?" We started to laugh. We laughed long, and we laughed hard…just like we always do when things are not going so well. My mother's funeral: expensive: Mom’s laughter that day: priceless.