Funeral and friends

Dear family and friends,

A funeral is of course for those who survive. Going to one yesterday, I was thinking of my own funeral, if any (and I am disinclined about it: after all, I like to BE at love fests, not a phantom presence), and I was deciding about my wishes: first, make the funeral itself private, just the closest family and friends, with just the simple prayers that are said on these occasions. For God's sake, please don't read "The Woman of Valor" speech. It turns my stomach. That woman is all right, but she's not me. She does everything for her family; what I do is largely for myself, I admit it. Please don't misunderstand, I love my family and would do anything for them, but when I think of the work I enjoy so much, I cannot pretend it is for them that I immerse myself in Shakespeare projects.

I guess I choose the private funeral because that's what we had for my sister Mildred and her two children, Eve, who died shortly before her and Jon who died a little while after her. We also had a fine memorial service for Eve, and a touching one for Jon among his most recent friends. My sister did not want one: too embarrassing to contemplate, private person that she was.

But if you want to have a litany of praise and jokes and recollections about me, by all means: do it if you are moved to it, but not because you think I want it: I won't know one way or the other. Gather friends together, with wine and cheese and comfortable chairs, and allow each person about 5 minutes to say something intense, or funny, or sweet or memorable about me. As I said, I would like to be there, of course, because I know already that what people say TO me about me sometimes surprises me: they say "You . . ." and I think, "I do?" I didn't know that. So the memorial event could be a learning experience for me, if I were there.

I know that during the Shiva period after the funeral of my father, we were saved from our desperate sorrow by looking at photos, taking out all the albums, passing around unlabeled pictures to see if anyone knew who was captured there. The recollection of events captured there, or the guessing about them. That passing around of pictures could be part of the the Shiva observance for me, as well. But only if you want to, you being of course those most closely involved.

The funeral yesterday was for a splendid woman in every way, who had lived a full life and had touched many many lives, emotionally and intellectually. She died too early and too suddenly, but there is something to be said for that path. Mine seems to be slower, and I relish every moment. As I sit here with the sun just topping the trees and reaching me here at my computer, I have a big smile on my face. I am happy to be here, and I hope to make this day mean something.

Love to you all,
Bernice