Funeral Narrative

560 Words2 Pages

Sitting in the lobby of the hotel, I felt the cold breeze escape the sliding glass doors and touch my bare shoulders, triggering goose bumps to appear all over my body. As my family and I waited for the cab to arrive, I caught my eyes drifting down to my dress. I had worn it a few months before to a basketball banquet. I liked the way the small crystals all clustered towards the bottom of the dress sparkled against the black fabric. They reminded me of stars twinkling in the night sky. The sparkles on the dress might be disapproved attire at a funeral, but to me, it was symbolic of my grandfather. As I watch the cab pull in, my family and I head out the sliding into the frigid London air. I open the cab door and take a seat by the window. …show more content…

Entering the chapel, I observed all the familiar and unknown faces around me. After about fifteen minutes of being introduced to people who claimed they remember me, a man who I couldn’t identify began to talk. Throughout the rest of the ceremony, different people read their encomiums in which they had written about my grandfather. It was odd. For the duration of the funeral, I felt disconnected. I felt devastated, but in an emotionless, indescribable way. This had been the first funeral I had ever attended. Surrounding me were faces full of devastation and tears racing down from the dozens of luminous eyes. I still felt detached. Why do people cry at funerals? Maybe the person they lost wouldn’t want them to be sad, maybe they would want them to honor this moment and praise the life that they’d lived. After an approximately thirty minute long funeral, we were asked to rise as the pallbearers entered. Before I knew it, I found myself in a line of sorrow, waiting to see my grandfather. The body laying before me was not my grandfather, but rather the body of my grandfather outlined against the velvety interior of the basket. After everyone had their turn, the pallbearers placed a bouquet of orchids on top of the casket. Orchids represent strength and my grandfather was indeed a strong

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