I've been to a lot of funerals in my time. A lot, a lot, a lot. When your mom is the youngest of 17 (true story), there's always someone buying the farm, it's just the way it is.
I've gone to funerals for young people, old people, long-term sick people, and surprise deaths too.
Today I went to my first funeral in the North.
A girl in my class, lost her father this week. He was a very popular and well-loved man in the city, and there were so many people there, they spilled into the hall, and the porch beyond.
At first, it seemed like a typical funeral, but then the wailing began. It was gut-wrenching, retching sobbing that filled up the room. It was a siren song for mourners; come grieve with me, don't let me be alone.
It was terrible, and beautiful.
I have never encountered anything like it. It made southern funerals seems stunted, cut short. Why do we hold back? Why do we hide our grief?
I think I'm going have a drink now.
The Help
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