[Post B Week 4]

After Kate's father commits suicide, the long funeral process begins immediately. Neighbors come over bearing casseroles and other hot dishes, as well as flowers. Listening to Claire discuss her emotions and happenings at the funeral immediately brought memoires of the funerals I've attended throughout my life.

Just the thought of a funeral gives me a feeling of pterodactyls in my stomach. Unlike butterflies, pterodactyl are evil, and gut wrenching, with their beaks tearing out your insides. At each funeral I've been to, essentially, the only thing that varies is the person who passed away. The most recent funeral I've attended was for one of my grandfather-like figures in my life. Papa Dave and his wife, Joann (who I had fondly nicknamed Bobes), babysat me when my parents worked. Every morning since I was 3 months old, I would get dropped of at Papa Dave's and Bobes' house. I credit my happy childhood with their personalized attention that I got all day. As I got older, their daycare was no longer needed. Papa Dave retired from his job as a cop, they moved south....about an hour away from Red Wing. I saw them during the summer and on some breaks, and they always came for my birthday. I loved staying with Joann and Papa Dave, and I espeically loved this little vanity that he made for his niece. Its ironic that the vanity he made for me was proably the last thing he made. Long story attempted to be shortened, Papa Dave battled for a long time with brain cancer, and in the final stages, I avoided seeing him, because he was no longer the Papa Dave that I love.
Papa Dave passed away peacefully.The funeral followed 3 days later. Funerals are so difficult. I personally think that the hardest part is when a family member gives the euology. Watching them try to give a speech without bursting into tears is something I can relate to, because when I was 10 years old I had to give a speech at my grandmother's funeral. I found it heartbreaking to see all the pictures, and the smudged make up of the wife, daughters, and sisters. The funeral is just a landmark of healing, and even moving on, from the death of a loved one.
Overall, funerals mean pain. It means that someone is gone forever, someones love, husband/wife, sister/brother, grandmother/father, niece/nephew.
I admire Claire's courage through the funeral. I know more than well just how hard funerals are, whether you are giving a speech, standing at the gravesite years later, or just a family member or friend there for support.