I never thought I’d be here, didn’t know this was allowed honestly. The last time I was in this old church was a week ago...doesn’t seem that long to me but for everyone else I can only imagine how long it’s been. 7 little days in scheme of things doesn’t seem that important. 72 hours even more so, it passes in the blink of an eye for most...but for me those 72 hours felt like they would never end. I didn’t even know how long I was there at first, it was so dark...I can hear the piano being played, they’re playing my favorite song I and I can almost hear my mom’s tears hit the ground though the door. I’ve been standing in front of these doors for what seems like forever now waiting...just waiting. Waiting for my moment, I don't know when it will be, that only my Daddy knows….Finally the doors are opening and everyone in the chapel turns to see who is coming in late. They are all looking right at me, each with their own set of bloodshot eyes and tear stained faces. I almost feel like crying myself, never knew how many people actually cared.
I’m walking toward the altar now, it’s as...
A Military funeral in the United States of America is an honoring or burial rite given by the United States Military for a Soldier, Marine, Sailor or Airman who died in battle, a veteran, or other prominent military figures. The rendering of Military Funeral Honors is a way to show the Nation’s deep gratitude to those who, in time of war or peace, have faithfully defended our country. There are numerous types of Military funerals which embrace and omit certain components depending on the prominence of the deceased. For most, standard honors will be the funeral that is chosen for them. Whether the service member served 35 years, or a short term contract, His or Her honors will be performed with the utmost respect. Performing the ceremonial duties falls upon a class of highly trained and highly motivated detachment.
Big Mama's Funeral Gabriel García Márquez story, Big Mama's Funeral, is a story filled with fantastical scenes and events, much in line with Don Quixote and Candide. The introductory paragraphs of Big Mama's Funeral and Candide sound so similar in voice the two authors could be mistaken for the same. In Candide, one finds a series of episodes that are so far from the truth and yet perfectly explainable. The story of the fate of Dr. Pangloss, the death and resurrection of Cunegund and of her Jesuit brother, and the story of the old woman with one buttock are farcical in the same way as the episodes in Big Mama's Funeral.
The disposition of the dead is facilitated in variety of ways because people have died at all points in history and the living have always mourned the dearth of loved ones with some type of ceremony. The way a person is buried is sometimes the deceased person’s wishes as stated in a will or legal document or it could be the decision of the family. But most times once you are dead others can do with your body as they wish.
presence of God in times of need. It is also common for a hymn to be
When I walked inside the front door something didn’t seem right. The feeling of sorrow overwhelmed the house. It was so thick I could literally feel it in the air. Everyone was motionless. They were sulking;I was befuddled. The most energetic people in the world, doing absolutely nothing. I repeatedly asked them what was wrong. After an hour or so, my dad pulled me aside. He said that my Aunt Feli had passed away last night. My mind went for a loop, I was so confused. I thought that he was joking, so I replied “You’re lying, don’t mess with me like that.” and punched his shoulder softly while I chuckled. My dad quickly started tearing up and said, “There...
I rushed out of the bedroom confused. I began to realize what was going on. I ran to where I last saw her and she was not there. Never before I felt my heart sank. My eyes filled with tears. I dropped to my knees and felt the cold white tile she last swept and mopped for my family. I look up and around seeing picture frames of of her kids, grandchildren, and great grandchildren smiling. I turn my head to the right and see the that little statue of the Virgin Mary, the last gift we gave her. I began to cry and walked to my mother hugging her. My father walked dreadfully inside the house. He had rushed my great grandmother to the hospital but time has not on his side. She had a bad heart and was not taking her medication. Later that morning, many people I have never seen before came by to pray. I wandered why this had to happen to her. So much grief and sadness came upon
Getting ready to walk into Anna’s hospice room, my anxiety level was escalating. Saying a quick prayer, I asked God to help me find the right words to comfort Anna and her family. Upon knocking on her door, a young lady in her middle 20’s answered the door. Opening the door for me, she informed me Anna was her grandmother and she would like me just to sit with her and that she would return after work. And she left. No get to know you introduction here, very formal, matter of fact, serious kind of girl. No one was going to invade her space. Oh well, I thought, I’m here to help Anna, hopefully Julie will open up later.
After he had sat with her, he got up and walked away to stand near the door. I sat in the chair next to her bed and the first thing I did was grab her hand, I dropped my head down because I knew our time was coming close to being done, what no one understands is how much of an impact she had on my life. There may have been an 83 year age difference between her and I, but she was my mentor, my story teller, my care provider, she gave me the best advice, she cooked the best food, she was the one I always aimed to make proud, but most of all she was my best friend. “It’s okay to cry, sweetie” said my dad. I didn’t want to cry though, that’s not what grandma would have wanted, but I couldn’t help it, I started to cry a little. How was my dad not crying yet? How could he stay so strong, he was much closer to her than I was, but somehow he managed to stay strong throughout all of it. I sat by her for probably 15 minutes holding her hand, I stood up, hugged her, whispered into her ear “I love you great grandma and I’ll see you when I get there”, I kissed her cheek and turned to leave the room. My dad was standing behind me and I walked into his arms and started crying, I couldn’t handle knowing that this could be the last time that I
Funeral planning is not something that we want to consider or think about however it is a reality we all have to face at some time or another in the course of our lives. While the subject may not be one you are very familiar with or one that you even want to be familiar with it is nevertheless helpful to have a good understanding of the various factors that make up funeral services.
Most people dismiss anything having to do with death out of fear. The uncertainty some associate with death has caused Funeral Service to be a particularly taboo subject in society. One may assume funeral directors are the sketchy personalities enthralled with death, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Over the years, Funeral Service has progressed and become a larger industry. Funeral Service has changed in its history over time, affecting the education required, and the job they do today.
At last I arrived, unmolested except for the rain, at the hefty decaying doors of the church. I pushed the door and it obediently opened, then I slid inside closing it surreptitiously behind me. No point in alerting others to my presence. As I turned my shoulder, my gaze was held by the magnificence of the architecture. It never fails to move me. My eyes begin by looking at the ceiling, and then they roam from side to side and finally along the walls drinking in the beauty of the stained glass windows which glowed in the candle light, finally coming to rest on the altar. I slipped into the nearest pew with the intention of saying a few prayers when I noticed him. His eyes were fixated upon me. I stared at the floor, but it was too late, because I was already aware that he wasn’t one of the priests, his clothes were all wrong and his face! It seemed lifeless. I felt so heavy. My eyes didn’t want to obey me. Neither did my legs. Too late I realised the danger! Mesmerised, I fell asleep.
... there. A woman next to me was holding her new born baby as she was listening to the play, and that baby, who was initially sleeping woke up with a smile on his/her face. The little boy was hitting those notes perfectly, and involuntary of myself, my eyes closed, and I was sucked up in the song. It was as if I stopped listening to the song, and instead the song itself was touching me. I automatically pictured that small light in the dark that shines proudly from miles away. As the boy was hitting the last note, I slowly opened my eyes, and notice that it was not such a bad day after all. I could see the hidden beauty of autumn days which was only the reflection of my own soul, which in turn, had been transcended in to a heavenly world. The boy was looking at us like an angel who just accomplished his ultimate goal; that is to make people happy, and erase their fears.
Beowulf starts with the death of Shield a great king in the eyes of the Geats, it also ends with the death of Beowulf. These funerals are similar in many ways. These funerals can be a reflection of the lives these kings lived because each king had his own way he wanted to be remembered. These funerals both involve huge amounts of treasures being loaded on to ships or back in to the ground and how the Geat people mourned for the loss of the kings.
There was no lawn, but there were four flower planters. The house was painted all white, with the exception of the front door that was painted light green. My grandfather was still young, strong, and full of life, he always had time to play with his grandchildren. Every Sunday he would take us to the park, would buy us ice cream, and take us to Sunday mass. On the day when this picture was taken, we were celebrating my 10th birthday, and I was dancing with my grandfather. I cannot remember the song, but I do remember what he told me while dancing slowly. He said “My little girl” how he used to call me,” in five years you won’t be a little girl, you will become a young lady.” At that moment I could not understand what he meant, but in my mind I was saying “grandpa I will always be your little girl.” While dancing, he made me a promise, “My little girl on your 15th birthday, I will dance the first song with you.” Who would know that he was going to die on my 15th birthday year, he passed away on June 21th, 1987 on Father’s Day. He left me with so many beautiful memories, but the most important was my first dance on my 10th birthday. On the night before my 15th birthday, I went to bed around 10 p.m. I was feeling depressed, because I was only thinking of the promise that my grandfather had made in the past. A promise that in my mind was not going to
My heart was simply ripped apart. I could not believe it at first, but I knew I had to. After all these wonderful years and enthralling moments, I finally have to face God's greatest challenge. My mind wasn't as messy as before anymore and I couldn't even think of what to think. It seemed as if I had nothing to worry about, nothing to do, nothing to say. I was trapped inside this room waiting for the Grim Reaper to reap my innocent soul.