"Funerals are for the living." Discuss.
I placed this question on my IG and most of my friends slid it to the max - funerals are for the living. Few left it right in the middle, and one at the 65-70% mark - giving some flexibility though leaning towards the majority. I acknowledge everyone's response and POV, and taking some time to process my experience helped too. Visiting my grandmama (my father's mama) at her house, in the hospital, and at her funeral made me wonder about a lot of things. I wondered about my grandmama (as a mama, grandmama, and child of god), about seeing my father (as a son, father, friend of his friends, and husband), about my relationship with my grandmama (and my relatives and my immediate family), about my mother (and her with her family), about the fragility of life, about religions, about funerals, about my own and my fam's funeral and definitely more that I might have forgotten at this point.
Growing up, I didn't have a good impression of my relatives. In fact, the narrative that was ingrained in me was negative. (Please, do not manipulate any child's impression of anyone (you hate/dislike) -- implore them to develop personal understandings through natural interactions instead.<<
It was only until post-JC that I started making more cross-island visits to my grandmama's place in Tampines with my father and my sister. Grandmama stayed with her youngest daughter (my father's little sister) in a humble HDB. They would always prepare fruits and juice for us whenever we come over, and reject our visiting gifts especially when they are fruits. On the last two visits, I got the chance to taste grandmama's noodles. The house was a simple one that is rid of clutter, bright, and clean. Grandmama will sit on the armrest of the sofa, or on the stool to talk to us, she showed us her Chinese bible wrapped neatly in transparent plastic tucked in a cardboard box. My sister and I will also make fun of my father in front of his mother about the birds he has at home and grin when she nagged at him. I do not have many other interactions with her, except for the random phone calls to tell me to work hard for school and whether I had eaten my lunch, and the hanging of the phone wlo the "bye-bye" (just "orh") because she didn't want to disturb.
Growing up, my father shared with me the same stories about his mother -- grandmama as a hardworking mother who worked long hours selling noodles causing her hunched back, grandmama as a loving mother who always made sure he had enough (and ample) to eat and spend, grandmama as a protective mama who shielded my father from his father's violence whenever he gets on his nerves, grandmama as a doting mother who allowed him to take care of many street dogs, but hoax the gullible son into believing that she is going to catch some cats for him xD. Many emotions, including gratitude for my grandmama for raising my father, and a strong sense of sympathy for my father as a son who lost his mama bubbled in me as I witnessed my grandmama on the death bed till the point she was pushed into the furnace. My tap of tears + mucus was loose, but I still don't know the exact reason. Is it the sense of eternal separation? The playlist? The sincerity of the devotees who sang the hymns and prayed for my grandmama? The loss felt by the people close to my grandmama? The empath in me absorbing and externalising everyone's grief?
Wednesday was when my grandmama requested to be off the life support machine. They transferred her from the icu to the general ward.
Thursday [02.06.22] was when my grandmama reunited with her second daughter who "has not come home for over 20 years". Grandmama passed afterwards. I held her hands for the second time in my life. (The first was when she was still in ICU.) They began the talks with the funeral service provider while grandmama waited in the last office, before departing to the place where they do the embalming.
Friday was when we got to the funeral parlour. We stood in two rows to welcome/receive my grandmama in her casket. Amazing Grace was the song that was played when they transported the casket past us to the front of the hall. I will not view the song the same as when I sang it in jc choir & assigning it as the anthem of the grace period (a joke shared between me and my friend, a fellow member of the 12-hour grace period club ;_;) I learned from the video montage that grandmama became a Christian in 2020. It was comforting to see her devoted to her belief - her deep focus on learning the words and reciting the Bible in a session with a church friend, her daughter-in-law and granddaughter.
Saturday was when the friends / people outside the family visited my grandmama. The church people came and there was time set aside for eulogies and hymns. I did not receive the lyrics to the hymns, and did not dare to look for any because I think the lyrics will be too much for my #fragileheart to handle. Wellys they sang it too clear that the song rang in my mind the next two days - I even went to youtube one of it because I liked the melody. Somehow, the Christian belief that grandmama is holding the hands of god (just like a young girl / as the daughter of god) brings me great comfort - finally free of all suffering, she doesn't need to worry about her children/grandchildren and just live life like a carefree child.
Sunday was for us to send the casket to the van, and follow the van a short distance before we board the coach to receive grandmama at the crematorium. The family members were the last to put flowers on grandmama's casket and the church people were there to do the last prayers (together with my father's youngest brother and his wife). They taped the flowers down to the casket, covered the transparent window and pasted grandmama's picture on the lid. The casket was presented to us below our observation deck, and we watched the doors close on the casket as it enters the furnace. That was the last time I teared for my grandmama, again, not knowing the reason.
My father and most of his other siblings are taoists. The process had some of them showing signs of scepticism in certain Christian beliefs - they did small things they think will rest / prepare / protect the "soul"/my grandmama for the cremation / afterlife (?) even though my grandmama is a Christian - which I learned, the soul would have been in heaven after her last breath, and the body is nothing but an empty shell. I become more curious about people's perspectives towards the death of their loved ones, and funerals - whether they are for the passed or the living.
The experience after the cremation process was strangely comforting. My grandmama's urn (or I would call her new address for her bones(?)) is at the top level of mandai columbarium. It is well-lit, has good ventilation, and is on the first row down the aisle with other siblings of god who believe in Christianity. She did not get a place at eye level, but she is not too high up for my littlest aunt to need a stool to see her, and not too low to be at the feet of visitors. The columbarium has animal friends like monkeys, pigeons, crows, tortoises and fish. It is positioned away from the incense/joss sticks burning place so it is not filled with smoke/grease or the scent of incense. It feels like a really calm and peaceful place to rest in.
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My 1 braincell:
Funerals are...
For the living - If they are doing the funeral according to the wishes of the passed, there could be a sense of the "last service" - fulfilling the wishes of their loved one (the passed). But, are they convinced by the funeral processes and the processes (or lack thereof) during future death anniversaries and visits to the columbarium?
For the passed - They will be assured that their wishes will be respected - whether they opted for one that is of the religion they believe in, or in the process that does not add a burden to their loved ones who would have subscribed to the nitty-gritty rituals during & after their passing (e.g., incense & offerings every Qing Ming) >>> Depending on their ideals & motivations, their funeral could be for their loved ones (the living) too.
Assuming positive intent >> In a case whereby the living rejects the belief/wishes of the passed, and go ahead with what they believe will help - it assures them that their loved one is going to have a smooth passing/afterlife >> Doesn't this benefit the living again?
Braincell concludes: Funerals are for the living - they are the ones with the moral & spiritual needs and the ultimate power to decide what to do during and after the passing. They are the ones who can conclude what they are doing (regardless of whether they follow the wishes of the passed) is indeed going to be an act of service to the person who passed.
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This is my first time experiencing the death of a blood-related family member and attending/being a part of any funeral. Growing up following my parents' taoist practices (blindly) and exposure to other religions make me identify my (current) self as one who believes in anything I want to believe. "Free thinker" is a tricky word because Oxford defines it as "a person who rejects accepted opinions, especially those concerning religious belief", and this definition is too general for me to align with right now.
Funerals are for the living but I guess I wanna be selfish and nosy and plan mine myself - I certainly wouldn't want a dong dong qiang loud and yellow void deck funeral (i might rise from my casket from the embarrassment) - I also don't want my loved ones to be cautious about the dos and don't (nitty-gritty rituals) during and after my passing, for it is a waste of time and headspace and money - simple and short will do. Then again, these are my wishes - they have the ultimate say in what they want to subscribe to for their psychological and spiritual wellbeing and needs. After all, I would have turned into dust and they are the ones who have to continue with their lives.
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This is a quote from Hamlet - his view that life is insignificant - how men, regardless of class & achievement end up the same:
While I do not view that life is or should be "insignificant", I do share the "dust narrative". I will not know what will happen after my last breath until the time comes - whether I fall into a state of eternal coma or see certain imagery or be a part of any new experience. But for now, I am certain that I aspire to live a life I wouldn't regret.