How NOT to preach at a funeral

[Jana814]

My grandmother had cancer and knew she was going to die for quite some time before she actually passed. She planned her funeral down to who would speak and what they would say. She even wrote what the preacher was to say and made sure he understood that he was to say only what she had written for him. She had been attending that church for a really long time and is not someone who is easy to say no to, even in death. I wasn't able to attend her funeral since I was about 35 weeks pregnant at the time and lived in a different country, but my dad said it was hilarious. I miss her dearly, and it would have pissed me off so bad to hear someone go off on a tangent like that at her funeral. A funeral should be about the person who died and comforting their family and friends.

Sounds like your grandmother was a smart person. I think more and more people r doing that. (planning their own funerals) even if they are not even sick. Because u can tell someone this is how I want this and this done, but unless it is writing they will not know.

[Jinger Jar]

This kind of sounds like an urban legend to me.

My grandmother died quite suddenly, less than a week after her cancer diagnosis. Three of her sisters drove in together from out of town for her funeral. The day after her funeral, they went over to my grandfather's house and made off with her clothes, photographs, jewelry, and other personal effects. They couldn't wait, they explained, because they were only in town for the funeral and wanted to get on the road ASAP, which I think was baloney. They phoned ahead to make sure my mother wasn't around to put a stop to it, took advantage of my grandpa's stunned and distracted state, and made off with her stuff.

They took grandma's bras, makeup/toiletries, house dresses, street clothes, her shoes and her curlers. They took family pictures, frames and all, even their wedding pictures. They took my mother's baptismal gown, which my grandmother made and which both of her grandchildren also were baptized in. They took afghans she'd crocheted and quilts she'd made. They took rings and earrings she'd gotten from grandpa for their anniversary over the years. If she hadn't been buried with her engagement and wedding rings, I have little doubt they would have tried to make off with those, too. They even took some heirloom Christmas ornaments, for pity's sake.

To say they descended like vultures is to speak unkindly of the birds.

My mother was absolutely livid when she found out what had happened and wanted to go to the police. Grandpa didn't want the fuss, but he did make some calls to try to get some of the stuff back. The answer always was "Marjorie always she she wanted me to have blah, blah, blah..." I hate to break it to them, but I highly doubt grandma wanted the baptismal gown worn by two generations to go into another family, nor did she want another girl sleeping under the quilt she embroidered with her granddaughter's name and birth date.

To their credit, these ladies laid low for years after this all happened, avoiding reunions and other events where they might have run into my grandfather or my mother. And they didn't see fit to attend his funeral, either. Maybe shame kept them away, or maybe they knew they'd already picked him clean. Who knows.

Anyway, death and funerals bring out the greed and the :cray-cray: :cray-cray: in some people. Sadly, it wouldn't at all surprise me of someone wanted their shower gift back if the baby died.

[Aurora rising]

My mum´s funeral was like this, unfortunately. She died of untreated cancer (I´m still angry when I think about it) and her last weeks very not very good, she was high on morpin, couldn´t be left alone and changed completely. She was in a very bad state for weeks so we never knew if she is going to die or not, it was awful. A friend of her came every day to visit (doesn´t work, kids are moved out and lives in the town) while my brother and I took turns to visit her (both working, he had to drive 40 min, I had to drive 1 hour to go there and we were there nearly every day).

We all knew that the friend was a religious lunatic but somehow my mother was grateful when she was there. Honestly, I think she would have been grateful for anybody to be there, she panicked when she was left alone.

We were not there when she died and although my husband swears that she wanted it that way (she told him she would never be able to "go" if her kids were with here) I´m still haunted by this. Her friend was there and for this I am forever grateful.

At the funeral we were delighted to hear the priest preaching about different religions (christians, muslims and esoteric all in the church together). And then came the friend - she was talking for more than 45 min about Jesus, about how my mother found him (of course with her help), how my mother confessed her sins (she even told us her "sins"!!) and in the end she told everybody that she was her as my mum died because "her children were not there". I was and am so ... hurt, so livid.

She was even stupid enough to call me a few days afterwards to "tell the gospel". Well, she reached my husband who is very direct, very honest and absolutely f*** rude if necessary.

[Full enough quiver]

My family is full of patriarchal assholes. The worst one was my grandfather. He was a racist, sexist, abusive asshole who made my grandmas life hell. The worst thing about him was the fact that he sexually abused all of his granddaughters. Well, when he died, the family decided to pretend he was this great guy. So all his victims are forced to sit through his funeral and listen to the priest blather on about what a great guy he was, what a family man, blah blah blah. We're all sitting there thinking wtf? Then we get to the gravesite. I get up to sing (forced by my father to sing Amazing Grace at the funeral of a man who raped me) My grandmother gets up, and goes off! She tells everyone she's glad he's dead, and that he's burning in hell! Then she walks over and spits on his grave. One by one, all the women in the family do the same. The men are standing there, flabbergasted. You could've heard a pin drop. Then, suddenly, they do the 21 gun salute (he was a veteran) and hand the flag to my father. The priest was mortified. No one will ever forget that funeral.

[Jana814]

My family is full of patriarchal assholes. The worst one was my grandfather. He was a racist, sexist, abusive asshole who made my grandmas life hell. The worst thing about him was the fact that he sexually abused all of his granddaughters. Well, when he died, the family decided to pretend he was this great guy. So all his victims are forced to sit through his funeral and listen to the priest blather on about what a great guy he was, what a family man, blah blah blah. We're all sitting there thinking wtf? Then we get to the gravesite. I get up to sing (forced by my father to sing Amazing Grace at the funeral of a man who raped me) My grandmother gets up, and goes off! She tells everyone she's glad he's dead, and that he's burning in hell! Then she walks over and spits on his grave. One by one, all the women in the family do the same. The men are standing there, flabbergasted. You could've heard a pin drop. Then, suddenly, they do the 21 gun salute (he was a veteran) and hand the flag to my father. The priest was mortified. No one will ever forget that funeral.

Good for your grandmother! Sounds he was a jerk.

[nokidsmom]

Good for your grandmother! Sounds he was a jerk.

Wow! That's quite a funeral. As shocking as it was to the priest and the menfolk, it was good to read that not everyone is willing to pretend someone who was that awful was all good and wonderful and will call it for what it is.

I know the protocol is to not speak ill of the dead, but when it's that bad....nah.

[Jana814]

Good for your grandmother! Sounds he was a jerk.

Wanted to add this, so sorry u had such an ass for a grandfather. That had to be hard.

[Rachel333]

I don't have any horror stories, but this weekend I had to go to a funeral of a cousin who died way too young. Like other funerals I've been to for that side of the family, a preacher delivered a sermon. No sharing memories about him or anything, just a sermon about being saved. It probably comforted his parents which is all that really matters, but I wish we could do the kind of funerals where we share memories about the deceased instead of listening to a sermon.

I've now heard that his family was really disappointed with the funeral, too, since the preacher didn't even mention my cousin in the sermon. Except for the pictures, the whole service could have pretty much been about anyone. Still, I'm sure it's really hard to plan a funeral when the death was completely unexpected.

As an aside, I was asked to play violin at the service, which of course I did, and I ended up having to play right after the picture slideshow. That had to be one of the hardest things I've done. I'm not as outwardly emotional as everyone else in my family, which is why I (along with the people who married in) am asked to do stuff like that, but it was still hard to keep my composure.

[Full enough quiver]

I'm sorry about your cousin, Rachel. I wish you and your family peace and healing.