Sitting Next To Jeff

My friend Jim's mother died this week, and the funeral was yesterday. She was 89, and lived a very full life.

I went to the funeral, and realized again how much I prefer funerals to weddings. I'm not happy about the person dying so as to have occasion for a funeral, but as lessons in humanity, they're far more significant.

Weddings are all platitudes, and flowers, and sappy romance. The funeral is a chance to truly look back over someone's life, before the wood hits the earth.

Wifey was running late, so I sat next to Jeff. He's a friend from law school, now long retired from practicing, and as I glanced his way, I realized we first met when we sat next to each other, in several classes at UM Law.

I imagined we just sat together at a movie, and the scenes changed, from 1986. Then, we were 22, and all full of ourselves, and concerns about our coming careers. Now, we were husbands and fathers, and adult children of dying, aging parents.

Jim spoke about his mother with great emotion. He admitted he was a mama's boy, and shared how she "always made things right" for him, his brother, and late father. Frances was the smoother-outer, in contrast to his gruff, no nonsense Dad.

Jim's brother, an Atlanta dentist, spoke as well. He is much less a feeling guy than Jim is, but thanked Jim for bearing the brunt of his aging parents' care, as Jim was in South Florida with them, and Hugh in Atlanta, merely popping in a few times per year.

They held a Shiva, and it was a nice opportunity to catch up with some old law school friends. Hugh asked whether I was coming back later in the weekend, and I told him a white lie about why I can't. The truth is, MY mother is turning 90, and we get to celebrate another birthday with her.

I hugged Jim, and he thanked me for attending. How could I miss it? How can one call himself a friend, and not be there to honor one's deep loss?

I only met Frances four or five times, but I felt I knew her better yesterday, after hearing the words about her meaning to children and grandchildren.

I'm happy to attend a birthday party tomorrow, instead of a funeral.