Funny Guy Friday… The funeral crashers...

    Funny Guy Friday is written each week by my husband Mark. So, I married a funny guy...
    I must admit that I am jealous of my family. Every couple of weeks, when I come home from work, my wife and kids regale me with great stories… some funny, some heartwarming, and some inspiring.
   They tell me about their new friends that they've met, and about the delicious meals that they've shared. It is always somebody new, and, if truth be told, somebody that they will probably never meet again. It really doesn't matter because on these days, they are great pals, willing to share lifelong stories.
    Where, you ask, can you congregate once every month with a room full of strangers and enjoy great food and camaraderie?
    The answer may surprise you.
    Funerals.
    That's right, I said funerals. My family have become the Funeral Crashers.
    Perhaps a little history may help explain how all of this started.
    My father passed away about two years ago. We had what I considered to be the typical funeral experience… a viewing, a funeral, and a repast (by the way, repast is a new word that my wife sprung on me after committing herself to this cause).
     It was moving to see the different people who showed up to pay their respects. This was both Cheryl's and my first experience with a death in our own family, and it made us both realize what the visitation part means to those that survive the deceased.
    I made a mental note of it… and then promptly forgot about it.
    Cheryl made a mental note of it and BOOM… she and the kids have a new career… professional mourners.
    I think that the priests have her on speed dial so they can fill a church at any time.
    At least three times in the past three months, Cheryl has announced that she and the kids are going to take some time off from their rigorous home school schedule in order to attend a funeral. On each occasion it was an adult parent of a friend, and in two of the three, they barely knew the deceased.
    I am advised that typically our kids are among the youngest members of the congregation. In fact, it is kind of humorous to hear eight-year-old Noah give his critique of the homily… Father Lewis gave a great homily. It gave me a lot to think about. Monsignor was kind of complicated, but it was funny to see our friend's baby making faces in front of me. Maybe he was having trouble understanding, too.
    From what I can gather, my kids are not always the youngest attendees as it appears that it is not just my family of home schoolers that considers attending a funeral as a field trip.
    Hey Christi, did you guys know Mr. Jones?
    No, not really, why do you ask?
    His funeral is today, and I think I might run the kids over. I can pick your kids up and take them if you want.  I am sure we will get some lunch afterward.
    Well, we were going to go to the aquarium but this might just work out better… sure, if you don't mind, I will take you up on that offer.   
     Now I understand attending the service at the church, but what I don't get is the luncheon after the Mass. It seems to me that would be reserved for close friends and family members, but my family always seems to find a way to worm their way in. Cheryl assures me that they are always invited. I tell her that when people stand up at the end of the funeral and invite people "back to the house" they really don't expect the friend of the niece's cousin's daughter… and her three kids... to pop in. Cheryl assures me that they do, in fact, expect them all to pop in.
    This past week, they had the pleasure of sitting next to an elderly gentleman who happened to be the father of a friend of ours. Turned out that he knew Cheryl's father and that they played shuffle board at the Knights of Columbus. He had a lifetime of stories, and my kids seemed to hang on every word. In fact, I think that they have a play date scheduled for next Thursday.
     The reality is that this whole process is very healthy for our kids.
     My brother once told Cheryl that kids are afraid of death because their parents are afraid of death. My father was home for four weeks before he passed away, and if you could find a way to get past the whole dying thing, it was a beautiful four weeks. Friends and family came and went and paid their respects while he was alive and coherent. There was nothing to fear. His funeral was a celebration of his life, and we did want everyone to share in it.
    As a child, I cannot recall ever attending a funeral. To this day, I am never sure how to act or what to say. I want so much to let people know that we are praying for them and for their family. More importantly, I want them to know that their loved one is in a better place. My words always seem so shallow, ineffective and rehearsed.
    So how can I get better? I can practice. I can watch others. By trial and error, I can see see what works and what doesn't work.
    Lord knows that my kids are getting a lot of practice. They will not be afraid of death and words of comfort will come easy to them. Not only will they have the right words, they will also have the wisdom to be quiet and listen to family and friends as they tell stories… some funny, some heart warming and some inspiring.
    When you think about it, you will never get that kind of knowledge at any aquarium.