Death of The Funeral

Respect be dammed! A funeral contains secreted bottles of alcohol, a fashion parade, loud insults and an epic display of a clashing variety of addictions.
At least that's what I recently witnessed. My face twisted with disgust and my heart sick with shame. 

I knew the young man recently lost, he was far from an angel, but a pleasant boy known to many. Perhaps I have spent too many years in isolated church based villages, but the procession I saw was at odds with the solemn gatherings I have observed in the past. 

Perhaps the age of the departed affected the crowd; not too young to be all sickening grief, not too old to be quiet and respectful. A group of twenty, heading to the funeral of a close friend. Shirts un-tucked, ties around heads, micro skirts, excesses of make-up, tracksuits and baseball caps at odds with the sea of black. 

At first I felt pity, for them and the family who would be shortly greeting them. Then disgust that they couldn't manage to be civilised for one day. The alcohol (so freely shouted about), put my hackles up as did their mentions of other addictions and supplies. I wondered at their lives, that this was considered acceptable behaviour.

Those they passed seemed nonplussed and uncaring, so was it really just me? Is it okay to wear sportswear to a funeral? Is it okay to be planning next weekends party? I thought all this went on hold. I believed that this was an event which postponed everything else. Surely to consider putting yourself through the emotional turmoil of a funeral, you care deeply for the lost and are there to support the others left behind.

Everyone mourns in their own way, and no judgement should be passed on how others come to terms with the loss. Why should a 48 hour party in someone's memory be such an inappropriate thing. The police showed leniency when called to silence the rave music and break up the fighting the first night. They never came back despite many households with young children asking for the public garden area to be cleared of sleeping drunks and broken bottles. They never reacted to the lewd gestures from the crowd of youths, despite being watched from so many windows filled with people wanting their help.

It must be an amazing thing to have a person in your life so popular, they are deserving of the attention of the whole neighbourhood. Perhaps this is just my age catching up with me and the future is destined to be a circus of clowns parading false emotions for the excuse of a party. The drama of a soap opera played out for all to see.

For me a funeral is a time of mourning and respect, a time to remember and reflect, I was brought up believing it was a time of sadness and silence. My own interactions with funerals have scarce, I always felt that it wasn't best to be forced into saying a goodbye at a scheduled point in time, rather to come to terms with the loss individually.