Sadness or inspiration at funerals?

Two funerals on my calendar over the last few days. What can I share here to make clear I have the proper feelings for such times? Probably best not to try. People can feel self-conscious about this. Am I behaving properly? Speaking properly to the survivors? 

I found a very old Bible in my house that had my grandfather Martin's obituary preserved in it. There was another newspaper clipping there. Someone in my family thought it important to preserve that auxiliary little piece. We're talking the year 1933 when funerals had a different sense about them. In a word: sadness. 

You might wonder: Is it so surprising that sadness/grief is a prevailing emotion? Well it has to be, to a certain extent, but today we see funeral businesses describe what they do as a "celebration of life." You no doubt sense that their efforts are concentrated on positive feelings about the deceased, to the extent we can suppress the sheer grief of the loss. 

Maybe it's a trait of my boomer generation that we wanted to avoid the downer of just crying all over the place. It's so depressing, so what exactly are we accomplishing? 

I once bought a book of regional history interest for my mom. The author was from Pierz. He was impassioned about preserving for posterity the customs of living in outstate Minnesota in the period of mainly the 1930s. And he explained how funerals were different. They were meant to be sad. Profoundly sad. So I guess people had no inhibitions about the crying. 

My oft-foolish generation thought it uncool, I guess. 

Let's be in denial? And let's rationalize this on the basis that it's more constructive to remember the positive and use it as a guidepost for the future? Mere rationalization, or is it good sense, good logic? With boomers there's always a sense of being on the right track. We were on the right track resisting the war in Vietnam. Think of the approximately 58,000 memorial services that were required for the poor young men who had their lives snuffed out as a direct result of the war. 

Reflecting on this makes me really feel grief. Young men around the age of 20, just gone. Including our family friend from Brainerd "Dicky" Ungerecht, a war casualty in 1966. "Friendly fire" BTW. We attended his funeral in Brainerd, Mom's hometown. Quite a bit of sadness to be felt at this funeral. 

Maybe the less-sad funerals have come about because people live so much longer today. Yes, they live so long that they are in a very challenged condition at the end. Death can bring some sense of relief in these cases. "He/she is in a better place now." I remember Mom saying that about our 16-plus-year-old Lhasa Apso dog. "In a better place." In a place where age does not begin to afflict your body. God created us with sort of an expiration date. 

My grandfather Martin is buried at Glenwood Lutheran Cemetery. Morris does not have a designated Lutheran resting place. Would I care about such a distinction? No. Morris has a Catholic cemetery. You might ask Ted Storck about that. He's a very interesting person and I'd normally feel some affinity with him, given his journalistic-punditry trait, but I was disappointed that he dragged the community through the "chimes" thing. Just plain unnecessary. He could have chosen a better-received gesture. Should not have been hard to do. Why annoy so many people? 

Glenwood Lutheran Cemetery is one part of the overall cemetery there. Not a real easy place to find. I thought I had the directions straight after a cursory check on the Internet. Was not good enough. So I called Glenwood Lutheran Church. Friendly person assisted me. I went out there on Christmas Eve Day at the time of my first Christmas after Mom's passing. It was late-afternoon, still light out. And Glenwood Lutheran Church was about to have its first Christmas Eve service of the day. Was happy to attend, will never forget it. 

 

A Williams place

Martin and Carrie Williams

This was the church of my grandparents Martin and Carrie Williams and the five sons they raised. Dad was the youngest. When I visited the cemetery at Christmas, I could not recall ever having been there before. My uncle Howard and his wife Vi lived in Glenwood through the end of their lives. I was always tickled by my uncle being a big shot banker! Howard and Vi left us long ago. 

My mother may not have wanted to accompany Dad out to the cemetery because Dad may have been troubled being reminded of his father's death. Goodness, Dad was just a junior in high school when his father died a painful death from cancer. The Great Depression was on. Martin died before his time. He was in an occupation that may have exposed him to materials putting him at risk. 

There are small markers for Martin and Carrie at Glenwood Lutheran Cemetery. There is a master slab of stone that just has "Williams" on it. Good chance you'll see it as you drive into the place - I'm proud of that. Howard and Vi are buried on the side opposite Martin and Carrie. I wonder if I should have my own ashes placed there someday. 

How to behave at a funeral? The afore-mentioned newspaper clipping was by Emily Post. Her writing hearkens to a time when everyone felt disrupted and sad at a funeral, so people might well worry about saying the wrong thing. Oh, looks quaint now. 

Today, like when I attended Myron Syverson's reviewal (wake?) Tuesday night, I had positive feelings rather than negative, as I would connect with the family including people I hadn't seen in a long time. 

 

Myron Syverson

A suggestion

In my opinion, if there's any doubt about what to say at an occasion like this, think of a little story, just a tiny tidbit of a memory, something plucked from the past to show that the deceased made an impression on you. Not a major event but just a recollection of something that made the deceased special on a personal level. 

So I told Myron's daughter Jodi about how I'd periodically see Myron on his blue-colored bicycle just east of Morris. It was a light blue color, powder blue! Thin tires on Myron's bike which meant he was a serious bicyclist! The thin tires help you go faster, the wider tires give more stability. These new E-bikes are just beyond my understanding. I'll be left behind on that. 

Jodi Syverson was/is synonymous with "gymnastics." Her mom Marilyn had/has her trademark too: "Sons of Norway." I just happen to be the kind of person with Scandinavian lineage who doesn't get into all that - I'm just "American," sorry. 

Myron was such a dashing gentleman - handsome, strapping. He was synonymous with "men's clothing" in Morris through "Palmer's." We had the dueling men's clothing stores: Palmer's and Wayne's! Main street men's clothing stores, once a staple, became dinosaurs. I never took to them and that was my fault or my hardship. 

The Internet instructs me that I grew up with "social anxiety disorder." I always hated it when the clerk in any store walked up to me and said "can I help you?" Shoe stores were terrible with this, plus getting a haircut from a gentleman like Bob Reese. I wish I could have been prescribed pills or something. There probably are pills available today. I needed pills that would have sort of a tranquilizer effect. 

I had no need to be scared of any such people. No logic to it. It was just a tic. I wish I had just introduced myself to Myron in a relaxed way and said with a smile, "Myron, I have some money to spend on clothes but I'm a little hard to fit." 

You see, I grew up when tight-fitting clothes were the preferred fashion for young men/boys. That was not suited for me. Many years later we got the "relaxed fit" and then "loose fit" pants. Suddenly this was acceptable, probably because the average American was getting heavier in weight. So, a matter of practicality. 

My clothes-buying became easier, finally. In high school I didn't have a chance. No chance of asking any girl to Prom. I'd certainly need pills for that too! I'd be lucky to find someone as attractive as Myron's daughter Jodi - effervescent nature too.

Myron Syverson RIP.

- Brian Williams - morris mn minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com