From 11-6-2010

Strangers in a small room dressed in black clothes, uncomfortable black clothes. Some people know each other some people knew each other, but no one is laughing and catching up. It is a room filled with strangers and a room filled with silence. There is a man in a box front and center, he does not look quiet and peaceful. He looks like someone who once lived but now his skin seems fake, his face is unnaturally posed, eyes painfully closed. He is why we are here. Apparently we came to pay out respects, the situation anything but respectful. There are three kind of people here; people who were close with this man, they are genuinely sad and crying hysterically or "being strong," there are people who do not know this man or barely know this man, but who are obligated to attend, and view it only as an annoyance, then there are people who barely know this man but know the hysterical loved ones well, and attend to support them. Then I am there sitting in the back, with my brother and cousins, we are sad, because the man has always been nice, but we are there for the mans relatives. Myself in particular was tearing up at eyes and crying deeply inside not for the man in the box, but for my grandpa who died many years ago and had a similar get together, then the tears for my papa became tears for my mom and I was holding it back. This situation is uncomfortable for all, the guests, the close family, the priest, the only one not uncomfortable was the man in the box. So please take this post as a will, skip the funeral.