A family member, or friend’s passing is never easy, and I am not a big fan of funerals or memorials; never have been. It has always bothered me how much money and effort folks put into laying the person to rest and saying farewell. I know, it helps with the grieving process, and perhaps assuages some guilt, but I’ve never seen the point.

Funerals don’t do a thing for the dead. Their time is served, and they have moved on, leaving us to try to make sense of life, and how to live it without them. We all have to go through it, but I don’t like it … except for once.

During our travels, we met a woman whose husband had died a few months back. She was working through grief and adjusting to being alone. We became friends, and when the end of October rolled around, she invited us to his celebration explaining, “He never was a religious fellow and hated funerals, so asked me to get rid of him cheap (her words, not mine, although I agree) and to have a party in his honor.” I’m liking this guy, and I never met him.

“Halloween was his favorite holiday, so he asked me to have a Halloween party for him, and I want you to come.” We agreed, and since it was being held at a marina we were moored near, it was hard not to.

In my mind, I thought this would be a simple affair with a few friends gathered. I would know no one since we were sort of passing through, but a party is a party, and the food was free. This was a real celebration of his life, and I do mean celebration. It was held at a clubhouse and pool at the marina. There was a live band playing music of cruising set; lots of Jimmy Buffett and other songs of the islands, enough beer and soft drinks to float our boat and a couple of others, so many shrimp that I was afraid the event would require an environmental impact study. And the pièce de résistance, a pumpkin that had been laser-carved to the facial likeness of the honoree. Now, I knew the man. I don’t drink beer, but I did hoist a Dr. Pepper to him with a smile and an inaudible, “Thank you.” I don’t know what kind of man he was; he may have been a scoundrel of the highest order, but he sure made a lot of people smile that night.

One benefit of a funeral or memorial is the gathering of family and friends who may not have gathered in a long while. Family reunions are sometimes ignored even when planned two years in advance, but the passing of a relative or close friend demands immediate attendance, and we will move heaven and earth to be there. 

There is always the obligatory line, “We need to get together under happier circumstances.” Everyone agrees, but seldom follow through. We try, but life happens, and living gets in the way.

Funerals and memorials have another unintended consequence. At each one I’ve attended, there have been at least one pair of family members who have not spoken in eons over some supposed slight, and are now found holding hands and blubbering over each other like they are the best of relations. Maybe they are now. “It’s a shame that someone had to die to bring us together,” one will say. Yep, it is a shame.

My raving about such services is not going to change them, and I do suppose they serve some purpose to someone, but to me, they are a waste of time and money. Before you think me cold and crass, let me tell you of my ideal passing.

I want to go in such a way that nobody will know I’m gone, like Moses, just wander off into the wilderness and not come back. I really like the idea of a party to celebrate my passing. Be happy for me, I’ve moved on to a better place, celebrate, but that is not the way of it.

Funerals are not for the dead, they are for the living, and the living need to mourn. I know some of you will miss me, and I guess that is to be expected, but hoist a Dr. Pepper at the sun’s setting, and smile for me. I’ll be smiling at you.

David Wilson Atwood is a local writer whose human-interest columns offer a unique perspective. He may be contacted, and his other works viewed at www.starchasers.us, or david@starchasers.us.