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Further Reflection on My Fear of Funerals

I don’t have a fear of my own funeral, which would be the likely interpretation of my phobia. I fear going to other people’s funerals. It’s not that I don’t respect the dead or that I’m incapable of feeling grief; it’s just that before I even get to the service I start to worry about my own habit of laughing at all the wrong moments and I have to work very hard to get myself in the spirit of the thing. I practice my long face. I transpose my own loved ones onto the deceased. I think of songs like Seasons in the Sun. I think about George W. Bush. I count the steps into the church, the rows to me seat, the tiles in my row, and the gold upholstery tacks in the kneeler.

And then I look up to see the lady two rows in front of me who has just a hint of her mostly black with little flowers Fashion Bug skirt caught in the cheeks of her ass, and my mind franticly scrambles to think of the pain of the closest loved ones, but instead I remember when I walked through a fancy restaurant in a beautiful flowing black dress with my hair falling in ringlets around my young face thinking I was incredibly hot shit, only to arrive at my family’s table and have my mother tell me the entire back of my dress was tucked into the top of my panty hose, and then I feel better because I’m laughing at myself which is really my favorite thing to laugh at, and my shoulders start to shake and the tears start to fall and I hope and pray everybody around me thinks I’m really broken up instead of merely laughing my ass off, and then I start to think of all the funny shaped heinies that make up the world; the wrinkled ones, the saggy ones, the tattooed ones, and the no-ass-at-all ones, and I picture them just falling off and rolling out from under mostly black with little flowers Fashion Bug skirts, and me having to step over them or step on them and I imagine the squish of heinie under my foot, and then I’m appropriately grossed out enough to pull myself together and get my convulsions under control and actually open my eyes and look up. In time to see the pimply-faced fourteen year old alter boy pick his nose and eat it standing right there next to the Virgin Mary statue at which point I just freaking give up and go running from the building!

So that’s really the root of that phobia.

Final Note: Best not to think of this post the next time you’re attending a funeral.

This entry was posted on Friday, May 11th, 2007 at 4:15 am and is filed under Self Abuse. You can follow any responses to this entry through the feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

13 Comments so far

Lara May 11th, 2007 6:46 am

you know, i think all the best funerals have enough of a celebratory aspect and joy in the life that has passed that laughter should be a part of it. i want people laughing at mine (through an appropriate veil of tears, of course… ;))
Paul May 11th, 2007 11:11 am

Going to a funeral should be a joyous occasion-give the deceased person a good send off. And if you laugh so what. Be yourself !
mad May 11th, 2007 4:37 pm

That has to be the bestest paragraph I’ve ever read. I want you to do my eulogy.
slouching mom May 11th, 2007 6:49 pm

You’ve no idea how hard this made me laugh, as I took the boys only yesterday to their first funeral. They were so confused, and quite frankly, I am never more uncomfortable than when in a church.
Jon May 11th, 2007 7:02 pm

Please! My face hurts!
Nathan May 11th, 2007 8:52 pm

i think i had planned on cremation, but now i wonder if first i could have an open-casket viewing, placed face-down in a mostly-black-with-little-flowers-fashion-bug skirt caught in the cheeks of my ass. yeah… behind a screen so the viewing line has no idea until too late.
Michelle May 12th, 2007 6:41 am

I don’t like funerals either, they’re always sad and emotional and I have a fear of showing emotion in public. Despise crying in front of other people. I know that’s weird but there it is.
Guinevere Meadow May 12th, 2007 12:05 pm

Oh. my. gosh. This is the funniest blog post I’ve read in quite some time. Nice visual, with the heinies rolling all over the place and squishing under your feet!!!!!!!

No matter how old we get, we never outgrow butt humor. LOL!
certifiable May 15th, 2007 3:05 am

Unfortunately I’ve attended more than my fair share of funerals of late, I wish I had of seen this post before, I sure could have used the many thoughts you provoked. Great post!
the new girl May 23rd, 2007 10:56 am

I also have this curse. Not laughing just at funerals but at any time when it would be the absolute worst thing to do. I think its horrible because it makes me look so heartless but really it’s just totally out of my control.

My best friend has it too, which has made my life so much easier b/c others just don’t understand it too well when you start cracking up when the guy across the pizza place goes unresponsive, falls backwards off his chair, tips a whole pitcher of soda all over as his wife is yelling and screaming and then gets up and leaves before the ambulance comes.

But she gets it. We have to be extra careful when we’re together though…
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Cori June 15th, 2007 8:05 pm

OMG! Maybe we were sisters seperated at birth? Two Catholic girls with ringlets both in their 40s. What are the odds?

You got me laughing twice in one day, you should start charging admission.

Great post, I love it!

Further Reflection on My Fear of Funerals

13 Comments so far

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