Different

I attended the funeral of my friend’s father. There is a strong sense of duty to support friends and family by attending when possible. I have been to a lot, but this was so different.

We were in an aged, but well cared for church. Aside from that, practically everything I knew a funeral to be was different. Everyone warmly welcomed me. I quietly took a seat in the back.

The sense of community was very strong. The music was loud. The people were loud. There was a drummer. People interrupted when they felt moved. It was just different.

On the other hand, it was exactly what I know funerals to be. People showed support for the family and friends of a loved one. There was grieving. People told funny stories. We laughed, cried, and mourned. We contemplated our own lives. As a group, we shared the wrestle with loss.

We celebrated the life of a great man. We tried to share the weighty burden that comes from separation. It was a touching tribute that allowed me to better understand a person I had never met.

As I age, the frequency of my funeral experiences has increased. They are a stark reminder of what is important in life. To re-prioritize, I just need to reflect on how people are described at their funerals. These are the significant things.

I’m grateful I didn’t let the surface-level differences cause me to miss any of the beauty. So often the right way is really just my way. A different approach doesn’t make it wrong. These differences added texture I had never experienced.

How might I benefit from trying a different flavor? Will I allow myself to be fully immersed into something new? Do I remember what matters most?

Be curious, be kind, be whole, do good things.