Six months ago when my father died, people from church helped plan and organize the ceremony, printed programs for the services, brought us army sized meals everyday, and planned a huge dinner after the funeral.
Everything was taken care of and we just had to show up.
Plus, all of us had a small part in the ceremony. I said a prayer. Growing up in the Mormon Church, I never thought about what non-church people do for funerals.
I took it for granted that people pitch in and help you do everything.
Over the last two weeks, I have learned that quite often this is not the case. A couple of family members helped, but it is nothing compared to the breeze that my father's funeral was. When I talked to my brother about this, he laughed and said "Isn't that enough reason to start going to church again?" I just laughed. That is one thing about Mormons, they never give up on what they call "fellowshipping" someone into coming back to church.
All in all, the services were nice. The weather was hot and muggy, but a little breeze picked up. The chaplain welcomed us all. Steve's brother read a poem. I read a poem. My sister read a short story. The chaplain spoke for a little while. Finally, Steve got up to talk about his mom. He struggled through the first paragraph and then totally broke down. He tried a couple of times, but the chaplain came to his rescue and read the rest of what he had written. After the services, I picked up the food and met everyone back at the house. We had a simple meal of deli sandwiches, salads, chips, sodas, etc. There was no sign of the all too famous & yummy "funeral potatoes" that Mormons always have. I guess that was my fault. Oh well, it was nice anyway, but I am exhausted from all of the work. From now on, I vow to pitch in for funerals, especially whenever I hear of one of my non-churchy friends are in charge because it is tough. I'll even try making funeral potatoes.
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