I often decide against them, and go for tights instead. They're a little less dangerous :wink:
Miller wrote:jespah wrote:Hi kayakmon, sorry I didn't get back to you earlier. Not much to tell, the toe tags were switched at the morgue so the morgue was a lot more on the hook than the funeral home, if I recall the case correctly.
I didn't get the relation between your comments about "open casket" and the mix up in cremation. Did you mean that the person in the casket was the one, who was supposed to be cremated?
I don't think that wakes are held for the cremated. I could be wrong however, as I've attended only 2 wakes in my life.
Yes, the person in the casket was the one who was supposed to have been cremated. And that's how the problem was discovered.
I went to a friend's funeral on Thursday, and am ashamed to admit that I ended up having a fit of the giggles. Well, not just me, the whole line of us in our particular pew, actually.....AND the one behind.
It was going to be quite a formal, traditional service and we had all taken our places, ready for it to begin. The place was full, we (men) were all decked out in suits and ties, the ladies were in black dresses, and it was incredibly hot in there.
The one thing that you must take into consideration is that most of the congregation was made up of Rugby players, as my friend was one of the trainers at our local Club. He was very popular there, so a lot of young 16 stone (224lb) males had managed to squeeze into a jacket and tie for the day.
The service had just started with "We are gathered here today, to celebrate the life of......" , when the main door creaked open, and in shuffled an elderly gentleman, walking with the aid of two sticks.
Silence reigned, as he very slowly made his way down the aisle, looking for a place to sit. He chose the pew in front of ours, and everyone squeezed up so that he could fit in. There were now a dozen large males jammed tightly together, shoulders hunched and looking very uncomfortable.
During the service, we in our pew, noticed that the whole block of males in front could only manage to stand and sit at various times, by executing the manouvre in unison. It looked very comical, and we began to exchange glances with each other and smiling.
Halfway through, as one of the hymn singing parts finished, the Minister gestured for everyone to sit down.
The solid block of suits in front descended in unison, but the male on the far end had obviously repositioned himself during the singing, and landed the middle of his bottom fair and square on the wooden arm rest on the pew, bounced off and ended up in quite a fair bit of pain.
As he stood there rubbing his backside, his fellow pew mates all started looking at one another, trying to hold back the laughter. That set off our row, and the row behind. Just as calm was restored, the lad with the bruised arse then tried to regain his seat, so the shuffling ensued once more, which started another round of the giggles.
I think everyone was glad when the service finally came to an end.
Having been a pallbearer at my grandmother's funeral a few years ago, I might suggest that funeral directors either have a quick run-through or possibly a handout.
Of course it would help if some of my relatives had actually listened in the first place.
All the stepping on each other's toes at the back of the hearse....
Excuse me Noddy24, didn't you have a post concerning "Why old men get angry" or something to that effect? I have been trying to find it here without success. :wink:
Lord Ellpus
I think your friend would have appreciated his mates giggles.
He was probably giggling himself.
Lord Ellpus--
Just because the Dear Departed is chuckling out of ear shot doesn't mean they aren't chuckling.
Jack Webb--
Homage to Yeats:
http://www.able2know.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=38135&start=0
When my grandmother died she had been a shut-in for a number of years. She preferred to make herself voluminous cotton sun dresses of truly headache-inducing multi-coloured patterns so when she died there was nothing in her closet "suitable" for the viewing. My mother went out and bought a lovely restrained navy blue dress with teeny tiny white polka dots. Unfortunately this dress created the optical illusion that my grandmother was breathing in the coffin! I thought I was the only demented relative that had noticed this until I saw my brother and cousin whispering furiously together nearby. It was all we could do to remain composed and not giggle nervously for the rest of the evening.
Funerals can be fun(ny)
At my friends Mother's funeral, they opted to play her favorite Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole music. Suddenly, something came on that was Punk Rock - one of the kid's CDs accidently in the wrong jacket.
Surviving that less than reverent moment, the two ministers walked together down the aisle, reading the 23rd psalm - only from 2 different bibles. Embarrassed, I suppose, they couldn't just agree to share the King James, they continued on in garble.
At my Aunt's funeral, it was time to play Amazing Grace, while we all sat in silent prayer. Only, the organist had put his fingers down on the wrong keys. Instead of looking down and finding the right ones, he continued to play to the end. I laughed so hard I snorted, trying to cover up as though I was in tears.
As a callow 26 year-old, I went to the funeral of a co-workers daughter.
It was the first time I'd met my co-worker's husband, and when we were introduced he said, "nice to meet you."
I couldn't think of a word to say; nowadays I'd be prepared with a "how do you do" or some such.
