I like funerals. Not mine of course. I'm not there yet. And even not others who are my dear friends. But I still like because at a funeral, only kind words are spoken, only kind sentiments are given, and only wonderful comments are made. Everyone is a brother or sister. Every one seems to have a common bond, if only for a few moments.
The funeral is one of the very few events in all of society where people put their swords, spears, knives, barbs, and hooks in the closet. We celebrate a departed friend, or foe, or loved one, or even acquaintance with equal measures of kindness and love.
The air is one of consilience, of forgiveness, and of hope for all. Almost contradictory this is, this celebration of a life after it is gone.
The funeral is one of the very few events in all of society where people put their swords, spears, knives, barbs, and hooks in the closet. We celebrate a departed friend, or foe, or loved one, or even acquaintance with equal measures of kindness and love.
The air is one of consilience, of forgiveness, and of hope for all. Almost contradictory this is, this celebration of a life after it is gone.
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