At a certain point in life, as a result of age mostly, one begins attending more funerals. Today we attended the funeral of a lovely gentleman from the church we attend. He was a professor of science and taught science teachers. He and his wife had four sons, numerous grandchildren and great-grandchildren. A grand-daughter sang a marvelous solo. Another played the piano. Two sons spoke. It is a talented family.
I will admit that when I attend a funeral, I always end up thinking about the details of either mine or Gerry's. Who will do the planning of the event? What family members will speak? What will they say?
Do we have an appropriate photograph to put on display? What should the obituary say? Who will write it? Where will they find the information? Will the choir sing? What songs? Who will preside? And on and on the details play out in my mind.
As clergy, I have both attended, officiated and planned the content of many funerals over the years. I guess it is not so surprising, at least to me, that I would automatically consider the content of my own.
And for me, that is not a morbid thought in the least. It is just the function of who I am.
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