I don’t grieve. Four funerals in 10 days (all of them people I’ve been close to) and I realised that I either don’t grieve or I’m physically and emotionally incapable of grieving. Maybe we’re allotted a certain number of tears per lifetime and I’ve already used all of them in the first two decades. I would believe that if I didn’t cry eyes out every time I watch King Kong (the emotion in that gorilla’s eyes is just too much for me; fantastic digital effects).
Funerals. Seriously, I can’t grieve. Most of the time, I’m just in shock. Yes I’m sad, sullen and reflective. Yes there’s this hollow pit in my soul…a sense of loss…a hole in my heart…but it lasts for like ten minutes and then it’s gone. I suppose I find it hard to be sad when I believe that the person that has left us is gone to a better place - released from the agony of existing on earth. It’s like asking me to be sad that a pauper has won or inherited a couple million British Pounds. Its not gonna happen.
I did a post once, on why I hate weddings. I hate funerals too, for similar reasons. The number one reason would be Gossip. Apparently, funerals are the place to be when you haven’t seen someone in ages and they don’t have Facebook and it’s time to play catch-up. Then comes all the “how-you-doing-it’s-been-so-long-what-are-you-doing-now”, and “yes-yes-my-eldest-got-married-in-Nelspruit-small-town-but-I-was-just-telling-Fatima-that-she-must-visit-to-see-the-photos”…or even worse “did-you-hear-he-left-her-and-ran-away-with-that-girl-she’s-only-sixteen-shame-and-she-has-to-see-to-those- kids-all-by-herself”. It’s disgusting. Pays homage to the old adage that if you've got nothing good to say, don't say anything.
Then you get those women (I call them Crows) that hound the body of the deceased, wailing like fucking banshees. It doesn’t matter that the entire world knew how much the Crow HATED the deceased. It doesn’t matter that the entire world knows how the Crow tried to ruin the deceased’s life by either spreading false rumours…or by going to witch doctors to kill off the deceased with some black magic…or by hiring those guys to break into the house of the deceased to rob and terrorise the family etc. etc. All that is irrelevant to the Crow, who’ll howl and wail until the cows come home perhaps because they like pretending they’ve lost someone dear, that they’re the victims. They love the attention. It's embarrassing.
What about those vultur...I mean people who are only there for the food. They could care less about the deceased or the family. In all the funeral homes I’ve been to over those 10 days, very few people had respect for the dead. Very few reflected on the life of the deceased or offered heartfelt prayers. Everyone was just concerned about their own welfare or how they could benefit from visiting the funeral home with new stories, gossip and free food to take home with them.
My point is this. If people can’t offer their respects without indulging in other *ahem* recreational activities, then they should rather limit their visitation time to 10 minutes, or even better stay away and don't bother pitching up at all. I wouldn’t want any fuckers like that at my funeral and I’ll haunt the bitches who think they can show up and make a mockery out of my death. And that is why I can’t be sad for the deceased; because with friends and family like that, they’re obviously better off dead.