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The Funeral

"Wow , this church is packed!" I say to myself as I stand in the back with several other mourners. I'm not even sure if this is the right funeral, since I overheard just yesterday that the ceremony was being held here, today at ten a.m. Should I sit on the side of family, or on the side of friends? I look around, trying to see if I recognize anyone. Most people have their heads bowed in grief or covered in veils. Both men and women are wearing hats tipped low to shadow their teary eyes. I can't make out their faces. I'll stand here for awhile and wait for a seat to open up.

Some people leave as more arrive. Most acknowledge one another in passing, relating how sorry they are at the passing of the deceased. They seem to know each other in some capacity. I see people in various uniforms that lead me to beieive they are healthcare workers of some sort. These must be co-workers of the deceased. They seem sad in some instances and in various states of disbelief and pity in others. Some of these people look like I may have seen them before, but who's to say, we meet so many people in our lives. Even though some of the mourners look vaguely familiar, none of them approach me to utter condolances or share anecdotes about our mutual friend, the deceased. There still isn't anywhere to sit, I'll stay in back a little longer.

When I first arrived, a choir was singing and then a minister started saying things about the person laid out below him in a half-opened casket surrounded by an elaborate array of beautiful flowers. The minister directed sympathies at the deceased's immediate family members seated in the front row of the church. From where I'm standing, I can barely make out what looks like an older lady, a middle aged man, two adult males with adult women clinging to their shoulders and several children, male and female between the ages of three and twelve. My heart swells in my chest as I hear the minister telling the congregation that this family has lost a daughter, wife, mother and grandmother. A few people have gone up to the podium to say a few words, or relate the happy experiences shared with the deceased. More people come and go as I am almost brought to tears by some of the kind, loving words expressed by the mourners.

While I am still in back, wiping at my eyes with the back of my hand, I notice that a line has formed and people are making their way up to the front. Apparently, this is the time to pay last respects to the deceased and show

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