Paint Me True
“I wish I could say it was touching and moving, but I hate funerals. I’ve been to too many in my lifetime. I’ve gotten to the point that I don’t participate. I was offered the chance to give a eulogy, but passed on it. I stood at the back and tried not to be too weird about it all. My aunt’s bright, vivid life had been distilled down to this room full of people who barely knew her.
When my first aunt died, I’d been too young to really understand what had happened.
When my mother died, I’d sobbed... through the service.
When my first sister died, I’d given a long eulogy about how she used to pick on me and how I wanted her around anyway, even if she never stopped picking on me. People had laughed.
When my second aunt died, I felt like a veteran. I knew funerals forwards and backwards. I recognized the flower arrangements that decorated the hall.
When my second sister died, I didn’t have the heart to do this anymore. I’d given a short speech and spent the rest of the time feeling numb and shell-shocked.MoreLess
When my first aunt died, I’d been too young to really understand what had happened.
When my mother died, I’d sobbed... through the service.
When my first sister died, I’d given a long eulogy about how she used to pick on me and how I wanted her around anyway, even if she never stopped picking on me. People had laughed.
When my second aunt died, I felt like a veteran. I knew funerals forwards and backwards. I recognized the flower arrangements that decorated the hall.
When my second sister died, I didn’t have the heart to do this anymore. I’d given a short speech and spent the rest of the time feeling numb and shell-shocked.MoreLess
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