When you lose a loved one, the funeral process is, at best, bewildering, exhausting and eye opening. You literally go from having had a conversation with your loved one the day before to deciding how many people you need to feed at a meal after the funeral service in a matter of hours. You make decisions that no rational mind expects: cremation or burial, roses or carnations, tiramisu or Italian cookies. The entire time, you are viewing the world in front of you with absolute shock and disbelief. Your heart is in in unbearable pain and your mind just cannot process what is being put before it. What saves you from having a complete and utter break from reality is humor. Yes. Humor.
Inappropriate Funeral Humor is the only way your mind is able to survive the tragedy of losing a loved one.
At my grandfather’s funeral in April 2006, my father’s company was kind enough to send us an arrangement to the funeral home. It was a beautiful arrangement. Of cheerful Easter flowers and a hydrangea bush. That had a note attached proclaiming “Happy Spring!”. And a giant yellow, plastic duck sticking out of it. As I stood with my dad at my grandfather’s casket, quietly looking at the flowers, my father looked at me and said, “My company sent me a goddamned duck for my dad” and we burst into peals of hysterical laughter right under the watchful eye of the funeral director. Afterward, I took that beautiful arrangement home and planted it in my backyard. And I buried the duck under it. For years afterward, my dad would look at me and say out of the blue, “A frigging duck. They sent a duck!”. Inappropriate funeral humor lived on.
When my father passed away unexpectedly in October 2012, understandably, I was a mess. By the time I got to Texas roughly 24 hours after he died, I was sleep deprived, border line manic and slap happy. Upon arriving, I dumped my kids with my brother and headed out with my mom to finish the details of the funeral, specifically the meal after the service. After a stop at the restaurant, we went to a local grocery store to try and order a couple of trays of Italian cookies to be served for dessert.
As we got to the bakery, a nice gentleman with a very thick Southern accent tried to assist us. After explaining we’d like two trays of cookies, the kind man said, “I’m so sorry but I just don’t have those for y’all”. When we asked him where we could get such trays, we had the following conversation:
Bakery Man: “Well, now m’am, do you have one of them SMART phones?”
Me: “Uhm, yes…”
BM: “Well, here’s whatcha gonna do. You gonna put in the words “I-talian cookies” in that thing, you know, The Go-ogle?”
Me: “Yes, I’m familiar with, uhm, The Google.”
BM: “Right. Well, you just put them words in there and you’ll get a huge list of places that sell I-talian cookies. You MIGHT even get prices.”
Me: “Well, thank you, sir, that really helps”.
BM: “The Go-ogle is where it’s at ma’am. Y’all have a great day, now, ya hear?”
My mother and I just stood in that bakery and laughed until we actually cried. I-talian. The Google. It was just too much and too funny not to have a full on laugh attack right there next to the freshly baked bread. It didn’t change the fact that my dad was gone but it sure as hell lightened our heavy load even for a few minutes. And, truth be told, I swear I was looking for Ashton Kutcher because we were being PUNK’D….and now, everyone in my family uses The Google.
So many times in the following days, we found ourselves hysterically laughing over things that no human should find funny. My dad’s service was in Texas but he was being buried in Massachusetts. When you are discussing how to get your dad’s body halfway across the country still reasonably intact, that’s just funny stuff. Comments like “I wonder what FedEx charges?” and “Can we just go casket carryon?” and “I guess Media Mail is out…unless we throw a CD in with him” were jockeyed around. Inappropriate? Yup, we had that covered.
When Fruit Loop #1 looked out the window to the backyard and asked “What time are we digging Poppy’s hole back there?” the entire room just burst out laughing at our surreal reality. When Fruit Loop #2 insisted she needed to wear dirty clothes to the funeral because “….we are burying Poppy, Mommy. We will get filthy when we dig the hole…”, again, laughter saved us (Read more HERE). And, when we found out that my father’s casket arrived four hours early for his flight to Massachusetts, my brother and I quipped that there was no greater tribute to the man who was nine hours early for every single thing he did.
Over the weekend, I attended a funeral for a dear friend’s mom. While I didn’t know my friend’s mom, I know my friend Anna and her husband Pat extremely well (Note: I changed their names to protect their anonymity. And because it’s fun to change someone’s name). Anna had traveled quite a distance and had to leave her husband and children at home due to the unexpected events. Because she was by herself, I made the drive to Long Island to support her, give her a hug and try to make her smile through her tears.
As I attended the memorial at the funeral home, I tried to pretend that hanging out in a place where dead people are embalmed is completely normal. I passed room after room with open caskets and tried to concentrate on not having the verbal diarrhea I get when I get nervous. I tried not to let the low talking, hushed, “I’m using my soothing voice” funeral director give me the willies and truth be told, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t freaked out that the bathroom was located next to a door that said “DO NOT ENTER”. Ick. I tried to take solace in the chintz fabrics, cheerful paintings and strategically placed boxes of tissues. I also tried not to look at the urn too much.
After I gave my friend and her family my condolences, I sat quietly and tried to look purposeful in a room full of people I didn’t know and a giant urn. As I sat, a woman approached me and we had the following conversation:
Her: Oh, you look like you don’t know anyone here, either.
Me (polite, quiet, funeral appropriate laugh): Yes, guilty!
Her: How do you know Pat?
Me: Oh, Pat isn’t here. He’s home taking care of their kids. It was too much to bring them here.
Her (quizzical look): No, I mean, PAT. How do you know PAT?
Me: OOOH, I thought you said WHERE is Pat. We’re neighbors.
Her: Really? You live on my street?
Me: No, I live in Pennsylvania.
Her (gentle throat clearing): I meant PAT (insert gesture to urn behind her).
Me: OOOH, that Pat. No, I don’t know her. Never met her.
Her (even more quizzical, maybe I should get security look): Uhm, excuse me, I think I see my other neighbor……
Yeah. Anna’s mom and her husband have the same nickname. Oops. And now Anna’s mom’s neighbor thinks I’m a lunatic funeral crasher. Double oops. But it was all worth it as I recounted the exchange to Anna. She laughed a genuine laugh with me and said it was one of the most ridiculous conversations she’d ever heard. And she smiled. And laughed AT me. So, there’s that.
Since my dad’s death, I’ve come across so many friends who have similar tales of hilarity amidst tragedy. I’ve read countless blogs and articles about silly funeral mishaps and have been comforted by the fact that I’m not the only one that finds humor at inappropriate times. One of my favorite stories, though, comes from Meredith Spidel at The Mom of The Year in the book I Just Want To Pee Alone. In her essay, “Love, Tears and A Few Scattered Ashes”, she recounts how her family was unsure of whether or not her mom had actually passed (yes, they used a pocket mirror), how her dad folded laundry on the bed her mother was in while waiting for the coroner and how, in a search for an extra pillow later that night, her father gave her the one her mother had just died on. And, I won’t ruin the rest of the story, but, suffice it to say, spreading her ashes was a real humdinger to read. Her story made me laugh out loud and feel grateful that humor helped save me and heal.
Because, if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry. And when you are crying, it helps like hell to laugh.
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| I know he’s laughing WITH me wherever he is. Or AT me. |
29 Responses
My funny story was at my mother’s funeral who died at the early age of 52 suddenly. I was standing with my brother-in-law when the neighbor who lived behind my Mom said “I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do?” My brother-in-law replied “yes, can i have that recipe of the danish cookies you make?” I cracked up and it was so relieving at the time.
I’m telling you, humor is what saves you, Donna! Thanks for reading and commenting!
I am a BIG believer in the “laugh so you don’t cry” gospel. These stories are great– I don’t think I have any to add, but I can imagine myself in pretty much all of these situations.
Laughter really is the best medicine….so grateful for the laughs during that tough time!
I come from a strong line of sarcastic smart-asses. It’s a very strong gene. I’ll never forget being at my Papa’s calling hours when the most raucous bout of laughter came from my aunts and uncles with a few of their long-time friends standing right next to my Papa and the coffin. As someone who always loved to tell a joke and make the whole room chuckle, it felt so perfectly right that my Papa was honored with people guffawing at his services … and it helped so many of us cope. I agree–laughter is the best medicine!
Maybe we should start a new hashtag, #FuneralsAreFunny??
Love this post! It’s so funny and touching. So sorry for the loss of your dad. xo
Appreciate it, Deva…I know it’s my dad who’s helping my blog career along…he’d have been so proud!
Oh my goodness, I snort-laughed through this so many times. I can’t pick my favorite part, though “My company sent me a goddamned duck for my dad” is priceless. Christine, I adore you and your perspective. I know your dad is so proud and laughing right along with you.
Thanks, Meredith xo
These are great stories, and I love that you were able to find some laughs in such difficult times. How else would we survive?!?
Laugher is key, Robyn!!
I laughed, I cried, I GET THIS SO MUCH.
Thanks, Kim!! As I said to Meredith, it’s hard to write funny funeral and not come off like an insensitive jerk, ha!
When my aunt (who was an amazingly funny woman) died we were devastated. At her funeral everyone cried and cried. Thru my tears I saw her dad sitting at the next table and I swear the man looks like a white Yoda, I kid you not! So I start giggling and tell my sister what I’m giggling at, she cracks up out loud and we get a dirty look from our mom. So I whisper to her what we’re laughing at which just made her burst out laughing too. After that it turned in to a funeral much more in my aunts spirit, I know she was laughing with us!
Funny That Is….ahem. Yoda speak 😉
I so relate to this. You did a wonderful job introducing us to your dad, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there to get him a duck for his funeral.
LOL! Amy, just get the next person who dies a yellow duck and think of him, HAHA!
This is the thing that I love about humans. We either laugh or we cry and those who choose to laugh in the face of great tragedy have chutzpah and class and this inner well of strength that is so very endearing and brave. I loved reading this post. Thank you for sharing your tragic comedy with
The Google. I love The Google AND inappropriate conversation- even at funerals. When my father was buried there was only me, my sister, our kids and my mother (his ex wife) no one knew what to say. Finally my mother just bent down, tapped the earth, and said,”Don’t snore under there okay?’ HYSTERICAL. Thanks Mom.
I laughed my ass off! God! The Google! Nyahaha, I still have tears in my eyes while trying to suppress my giggles because I am at work. Whew! Thanks. Needed that laughter. 😀
Sometime I will have to share the tale of my father’s ashes being disposed of & what lead up to getting them. Teaser: His body was donated to science, they use it for teaching purposes & when done cremate him & mail, yes mail, the ashes to you. Does a tampon sample box make you think What? Just ask me next time you see me or are bored. Dumping ashes into the wind & taking a deep breathe? Mom dies, look for a stream that leads to the ocean to avoid inhaling her ashes too. Humor is the only way for me to handle a crisis & yes at times, it seems downright rude but it sure helps me & my family through it.
I am always intrigued with the humor that surrounds death. It does make loss a little easier. I admit to laughing quite a bit at my dad’s service when the audience was asked to share stories of my dad. One of his co-workers mentioned the college age daughter who baffled my dad by paying off her credit card, with her credit card. I laughed more when my friend told me of the experiences her husband and teen son had as they drove a casket (in the late 90s) across country in the back of a pick up truck, but my favorite story is about a wonderful woman who has her ashes scattered near an Alaskan volcano. When it steams, it appears Eileen is pissed off again!
Oh, Christine. I am sorry for your loss and so thankful for your willingness to share the truth. 20 years ago, when my brother in law lost out to cancer at the age of 46, someone sent a plant…which looked just like a tomato plant. So, we did what any exhausted, self respecting mourner would do…we went to the store and bought a tomato and put it in the pot with the plant. My inconsolable sister in law had a good laugh over that, so it was worth it!
When my grandparents moved closer to my mom and dad, they couldn’t bring her cat. My mom tried and tried to rehome the cat, but he was mean. So she dropped him at the pound and told my grandma she had found a home for him. A year later my grandparents both died in a car accident. As we were sitting in the emergency room at the hospital where they’d been taken, making lists of all the things that would need to happen next, it struck me–and then I blurted out–“Oh mom! Now she knows what we did with the cat!” Long silence, during which I burst into tears again. So it took me a second to realize that everyone else had started laughing hysterically. In the words LG the immortal Truvy Jones “Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion!”
I am ex military, very somber service for one of our crew, we had been through TOO MUCH, before the coffin was closed, we all came together to say our goodbyes…One of our jokers put something UM inappropriate in his hand…We laughed and cried, totally how he would have wanted to be sent off! Hope it still is not innthere with him though…. I understand if this does not get posted…
When my father-in-law passed away, I was helping my sister-in-law plan the funeral. It was extremely stressful with family issues all around. We were choosing sons to be played. I have no idea why “Send In the Clowns” was in the book, but we immediately started laughing, which lead to singing. The poor funeral director……
At the funeral, we chose a military song to be played at the end. We didn’t hear the version prior to the service. All is quiet in the room and we hear the sound of a gong twice. My sister-in-law started to laugh. I started to laugh and my husband started to laugh. Quiet laughing, of course. She and I had tears streaming down our faces. It was so ridiculous, but it was so needed.
This made me laugh out loud. My dad unexpectedly passed away 3 weeks ago today. I am the queen of inappropriate humor and sarcasm and I swear it’s the only thing getting me through this. My cousin was extremely close to my father and was struggling at the funeral. He asked me if I could walk him to casket so he could say his goodbyes. We got up there and once we kneeled down I realized that the “dear grandpa” flower arrangement clearly looked like it said “dead grandpa”. The sick person that I am pointed it out and I’m sure people were questioning the bereaved daughter giggling on the kneeler.
I know this is two years after the last comment, but I found your post after using The Google to find a creative and unique celebration of life template to be used for my unconventional mom who passed away two weeks ago. Just like Nicole above, I don’t have a brain-mouth filter when it comes to inappropriate humor and sarcasm (in fact, at my last job they used me as a litmus test, if I laughed it was not a work appropriate thing). This has been really hard on my dad losing his best friend after 58 years and i’ve tried to keep myself in check but I needed your blog post. I’m sitting here laughing/crying my ass off. Thank you. I am sure i’ve shocked many of the neighbors and her “friends” with the invitation I sent out with the cover of the thing bearing the quote “Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming “Holy Shit! What a Ride!'” but when I read it to my dad, it was the first time I saw him smile and chuckle since her death and that sealed the deal. We will also be shocking the old bittys by playing kazoos to the tune of “oh when the saints go marching in” as we go outside for a dove release because I”m to broke to pay for a New Orleans jazz parade. I am my mother’s daughter, “To hell with what anyone else thinks”!