Happy Birthday, Happy Deathday

So today was a bit hectic.

One of my ex-boyfriends contacted me a couple of days ago. His mother had died earlier in the week. Because I am still friends with this ex, and I was fond of his mother, I decided to attend the funeral.

For a Catholic mass it went fairly well. I did have to fight a few childish urges. The priest, possibly nearing retirement age, or at least in the first stages of CRS (Can't Remember S***), kept messing up the deceased's name. Last tally, three mix-ups. I may have stopped paying attention in order to lessen the annoyance. I know he stopped correcting himself for making the errors.

Honestly, we all make mistakes. Hell (oops, heck!), I'm bad with names myself. I guess on some level, I want to feel that those honoring her life, by speaking at her last church attendance, at least know *who* they are talking about. I may be a lapsed Catholic, but I respect that others have faith in both God and the organized religion.

This was the first time I had been in a church in years. It was a fairly nice place of worship. There was a sense of restfulness and peace to it. Not like those (pardon the pun) soulless religious buildings, the ones that have all the personality of a Burgers-R-Us.

I skipped the graveside service, as I was loathe to get lost in the city on a Saturday afternoon. Actually, I'm pretty much against being lost in cities in general. It makes me cranky.

Following a reception of family and friends at the deceased's home, I extended my stay to dinner at a local Mexican restaurant. It was nice to spend time with some people I hadn't seen in quite a while. Nicer still to hear familiar banter.

During the meal, there were two separate birthday parties. It struck me as slightly surreal to be surrounded by the celebration of life, when I had so recently participated in the celebration of death.

I say celebration because that should be a part of the funeral day. Yes, sadness and a sense of loss should be part of the agenda. But in those last moments, when saying goodbye, we remember what was good about knowing that person. What they shared with us, what we learned.

There is a comfort in the ceremony of death. The rituals we uphold. The dead are gone, but we are not. Instead, we rejoice in friends, grieve for loss, and remain.... as always.... complex.