I haven’t really talked about the funeral. I don’t know if I should or even if I can. However it is my journal and I can talk about anything I want without any concern for the etiquette of death, if such a thing exists.
I haven’t had a lot of experience with funerals. One of my grandfathers died when I was little but I don’t remember much about that. I’ve heard people say the funeral for so and so was beautiful and similar sentiments, but I’m not sure the words beautiful or lovely suit a funeral. It may be Jessica’s is still too fresh in my mind.
Her funeral was not what I would consider a private affair but then I shouldn’t have expected it to be. After all the way she died was horribly public. Jessie was the youngest victim and so many people came to express their condolences. I didn’t even know half of them. I just thanked them and moved on.
There were so many flowers as well. In fact I’ve received more flowers in the last few weeks than I probably will during the rest of my lifetime. What’s with flowers at a time like this? I don’t get it. What have flowers got to do with death? Why do people think they are a good thing to give to someone who’s grieving? Sure they’re pretty but they don’t last very long before they die too, doesn’t that make them a highly inappropriate thing to give?
It seems a tragedy like this brings, I don’t know, people’s hearts to life. So often we live day after day not caring about others. I know because I see it all the time; disdainful looks, poorly looked after children, abuses of many kinds. So many different things. Things we seem to become immune to until some sort of tragedy awakens the compassion in us. I know I’m being somewhat cynical, not all people are like that. I hope I’m not like that, but if I’m to be honest in many ways I am. I’ve turned my nose up at people, muttered about how they should look after themselves better. I’ve even seen things and thought someone should do something about it. It never crossed my mind to do anything about it myself. I’m just like everyone else.
Where was I? Jessica’s funeral. Sometimes it seems so long ago, sometimes it seems like yesterday and always I wish it were some horrible, terrible dream I could wake up from.
I haven’t had a lot of experience with funerals. One of my grandfathers died when I was little but I don’t remember much about that. I’ve heard people say the funeral for so and so was beautiful and similar sentiments, but I’m not sure the words beautiful or lovely suit a funeral. It may be Jessica’s is still too fresh in my mind.
Her funeral was not what I would consider a private affair but then I shouldn’t have expected it to be. After all the way she died was horribly public. Jessie was the youngest victim and so many people came to express their condolences. I didn’t even know half of them. I just thanked them and moved on.
There were so many flowers as well. In fact I’ve received more flowers in the last few weeks than I probably will during the rest of my lifetime. What’s with flowers at a time like this? I don’t get it. What have flowers got to do with death? Why do people think they are a good thing to give to someone who’s grieving? Sure they’re pretty but they don’t last very long before they die too, doesn’t that make them a highly inappropriate thing to give?
It seems a tragedy like this brings, I don’t know, people’s hearts to life. So often we live day after day not caring about others. I know because I see it all the time; disdainful looks, poorly looked after children, abuses of many kinds. So many different things. Things we seem to become immune to until some sort of tragedy awakens the compassion in us. I know I’m being somewhat cynical, not all people are like that. I hope I’m not like that, but if I’m to be honest in many ways I am. I’ve turned my nose up at people, muttered about how they should look after themselves better. I’ve even seen things and thought someone should do something about it. It never crossed my mind to do anything about it myself. I’m just like everyone else.
Where was I? Jessica’s funeral. Sometimes it seems so long ago, sometimes it seems like yesterday and always I wish it were some horrible, terrible dream I could wake up from.
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