by Charleine Fenn

Created on: February 03, 2009

I never knew a funeral could be a thing of beauty until my mother passed away. In my fifty years of life I have been to more funerals than can even count, funerals of strangers, family and friends. It started when I was but a child. My parents sang in a well known gospel quartet and so funerals were just another part of their calling in their service to God and mankind. I was brought up like an only child since my brothers were already out and gone. My mother chose not to leave me with baby-sitters, which meant where ever they went, I went. Funerals were always a somber affair; some were long and boring with only a handful in attendance. Others were elaborate affairs with many in morning and flowers galore. I can smell the roses and lily's, the carnations and the mums, so many beautiful flowers arranged in pots and sprays.

One thing I have decided from attending so many funerals over the years, a funeral should be a celebration of the life lived, the life loved and the life lost. Really a funeral is more about those left living than the person who is dead. It is a last tribute to a beloved family member or friend. I have seen preachers get up and doom the dead person into hell. What possible purpose this may have served, I still am not sure. Maybe it was a scare tactic to those left behind who may not have been saved, however in those cases, I saw only anger left behind. I'm so glad God is the final judge and not man in all his fallible ways. It is a difficult position for those left behind to be in charge of all the arrangements in every last detail.

When my mother died after a long and agonizing time under hospice care, we all knew what she would have wanted and I think we done her proud. The service was simple with her family and friends gathered round. We took her body home to the mountains that she loved. Her cousins sang a couple of her favorite hymns. A prayer was read that was written by her own precious hand and then the preacher stood on her behalf naming those of us who loved her most, her family left behind. The pipes played her favorite song as the undertakers rolled her casket out the doors. Amazing Grace resounded through out the chapel as I stepped out into the snow. Beautiful pure white flakes, large and fluffy fell all around, confetti from the heavens soon covered the ground. A smile touched my lips as I looked up in the sky; I felt an unseen presence as I said my last good-bye...

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