I'm on my way to a funeral. Time seems to have slowed down.
I don't quite know how to feel. When someone is 94 and in poor health, and they shuffle off this mortal coil, do you really have the right to feel sad? Conversely, do you have the right to feel relieved? Both seem inappropriate.
Because no matter what, no one gets out of this life alive. Why do we as a culture never seem to have a way to deal with the fact that we all die eventually? A faith helps, and the Southern instinct to ply grief with food, but our rituals do seems to fail us in a cosmic sense.
Maybe I'll find I'm wrong. Whatever we do as a family for the next three days, I hope it helps my Mom. Her mother died. I am not looking forward to having such a thing happen to me someday.
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