Funeral Arrangements: Tradition or Torture?

Recently, my Grandfather passed away. Seeing as I am the only grandchild and my mother the only child, we were obligated to help with the arrangements. Being thirty-one, I am mature enough to understand, accept, and follow through with my responsibilities, but young enough to question the validity of what I was participating in. This caused me to ask myself a touchy question. Is a funeral tradition or torture?

For myself this isn't a question of religious traditions. In fact, considering what I have gleaned from my limited religious experiences, religion only made the questions about the traditions of my family bigger and more complex. For instance, if I truly believe "ashes to ashes, dust to dust", why in the world do I care if the casket seals or whether or not there is a vault? If I truly believe that the soul is a separate thing from the body and that the body is like a garment that is cast off in death then why do I care if there is a coffin at all? This type of thinking would explain why I was dumbfounded at my Grandmother's insistence that there be a waterproof vault despite the fact that the graveyard we were using didn't require it.

I was equally taken aback by the price of the coffin, vault, and services. In my mind, it is kind of underhanded and sneaky, not to mention, just plain old creepy to take advantage of people when they are in such a vulnerable state. Have these people no shame? I am aware that everyone has to make a living, but how much does a box lined in fabric really cost? Why did they show us the most expensive options first? Why do we have to pay a, generally miserable looking, middle-aged man to open the door for our mourners at the funeral home? And, what is that weird whispery voice that they use? Do they teach that at mortician school? Do they think if they whisper that God, or whatever higher being they subscribe to, won't hear them ripping you off?

And then came the viewing...Everyone walked around solemnly in black, carrying tissue in one hand, eyes streaked with mascara, giving me condolences, while staring over my shoulder to see if the flower arrangements they ordered were really worth $75.00. I played my role as hostess, thanking them for showing up, telling them that the casserole they made was wonderful, and that the six foot plant they felt the need to send was lovely and I was sure Grandpa would have loved it. All the while, in my mind, I thought of all the things that they really wanted to say..."I can't wait to get home and take off these shoes!" "How long am I obligated to stay so that I don't look like the biggest jerk on the planet?" "Isn't there food somewhere, I'm starving." I think that consoling people who barely knew someone that you really cared about, while standing in a room filled with recessed lighting pointed at oil paintings featuring things like fields of wheat or peaceful seas and tables with gold lamps and dark red lampshades to match dark dated carpet all while wearing heels and panty hose and a dress that is so tasteful that you could wear it to a nunnery and get complements, is ludicrous.

People were so eager to show their concern that they sent flowers. Do these people realize that this tradition started out of a need to cover the smell of a rotting corpse? (The whole thing seems a little less sentimental when you look at it that way, doesn't it?) Let's not forget that we had to bring these flowers home and distribute them amongst the family. My house smelled like a funeral home for two weeks. As if my Grandfather's death wasn't on my mind already, I couldn't so much as poor a glass of water without the smell giving me flashbacks of the fixed expression he had laying in his beautifully padded box.

I would have been able to say goodbye and grieve in my own way, on my own time, a lot better if I wasn't held hostage and tortured by tradition. Maybe that does seem a little harsh and cynical to you but, you must admit, it does prompt the question... When will it be ok to look at the traditions we practice and discard the ones that cause more stress than they are worth?