Three Word Wednesday 4/21/2010

It’s not like I didn’t love her once I just didn’t love her anymore. Long ago my feelings for her had ebbed into a collection of fond memories and depressive nightmares. There were good times, no doubt, but there were also bad times and it was those bad times that ultimately led to my departure. I hadn’t even thought about her for quite some time when I got the call from my brother that Michelle had been killed in a car accident. Starring down at the closed coffin in front of me now I couldn’t help but feel a little sad but wasn’t sure if it was for my loss or hers. I said my goodbye, a little prayer and proceeded towards the receiving line of Michelle’s grieving family.
There’s a funny thing about funerals. People thank you for coming, hugs and kind words are the currency of the day and the regurgitation of “It was just her time” or “She has gone to be with God” are suppose to comfort those left behind. I wonder how much of a comfort that is to a mother that has had to identify an accident ripped corpse at the morgue or a child who has no one left to “kiss away” their boo-boos. Apparently grieving also builds quite an appetite. The reception room is always adorned with various appetizers and treats. Of course these days there are no more “wakes” there are only “calling hours” or “celebration of life” ceremonies. It’s all bullshit really. A marketing ploy by greedy funeral directors who’s only mission in life is to negotiate the terms of your loved one’s passing into a display of your affection by what kind of meat is on the platter and how many chairs you want set up. I ate my requisite amount of ham salad, doled out my quota of hugs, told three people that she was “with god now” and left.
I hadn’t spent much time in my home town since college. It seems the only time I ever came “home” was for funerals, oh sorry, celebrations of life, weddings and the random holiday. I had outgrown this place long ago and, although it’s streets and landscape were familiar I felt like a stranger making the drive from the funeral home back to my parents place. My taste and style of living had become more ostentatious than this modest New England town could provide. I had been here for seven hours and I was already bored. It was 8pm when my parents settled in for another Murder She Wrote re-run, I had to get out of there.