Obscure Chess Buddy
She never invited me to her father's funeral because she didn't think I knew him well enough but I never told her that, when she was at boarding school, I used to play chess with him every Saturday at 2:00 and lose.
She never invited me to her father's funeral because she didn't think I knew him well enough but I never told her that, when she was at boarding school, I used to play chess with him every Saturday at 2:00 and lose.
The shirt I wanted to wear to your funeral went over the cliff in the back seat of your car.
At my father's funeral, his best friend of 35 years came up to me and asked me how I knew the deceased.
My cousin and I were two years old, playing tag around the coffee table, not understanding why all the grown-ups were crying.
I'll never forget the day my mom turned to me out of the blue and informed me, "When I die, I want everyone to dress as clowns at my funeral."
At my mother's funeral, my grandparents argued over the type of lettuce they had eaten the night before and I interrupted them by admitting I was pregnant.
At my dad's funeral, my friend's mother came up to my sister and asked her how she knew the family.
Pulling over, the biker took off his helmet and bowed his head as the 30 car funeral recession slowly passed.
We realized as we went up to pay our respects, that though they shared the same name and everyone was very friendly, we were obviously at the wrong funeral.
We held up our mother like lonely shelved encyclopedias.
I watched her tiny tummy sucking in, her skin pulling tight against her ribs, her hand involuntarily closing on my index finger as she struggled for every breath, and I thought, "One day, is one day too much to ask?"
When you said I wasn't allowed to say anything at the funeral because it would be "improper," I knew I hated you.
As I pass the full parking lot at the funeral home on my daily commute, I am reminded that no matter how stressful I think my day has been, at least I am not on my way to a funeral.
When I was 5 or so my mom would tell me to lie down before she tied my tie and I just now realized at the age of 19 that she did this because she's a funeral director.
I wrote "thank you" notes to everyone who had attended the funeral as if it had been a baby shower.
The sight of my usually stoic mother weeping on the lid of her brother's casket is one I wish I could have gone a lifetime without seeing.
About the dumbest thing you can say about an embalmed body at a funeral is that they "look good," but that is what everyone kept saying.
Midway through my father's funeral, I realized that almost everyone at the service probably thought my best friend--whose hand I was clinging to--was my lesbian lover.
I was a row behind her at his wake, two at his funeral, and across the table at the dinner but I never told her I slept with him while they were dating.
Later, I would realize that I cried harder when my dog died than I did at Mom's funeral.
It wasn't until the eulogy ended that I realized I had been thinking about porn instead of listening.