Click here to subscribe today or Login.
Mark Guydish
Saturday, February 05, 2000 Page: 3A
Greetings from FuneraLand, the world’s least favorite retreat, a place of
suspended time, sincere cliches, donated dinners and a high-speed money drain.
FuneraLand clocks barely move. In the four days between my father’s Jan. 28
death and his burial, a Hazleton man was charged with raping a 6-month old
girl, nearly a foot of snow fell and gay Catholic priests became a hot
national topic.
Yet these and other stories blitzing through the headlines didn’t seem to
happen where I stood, a place disconnected from conventional time because real
time – real mortality – intruded.
FuneraLand makes visitors awkward. What can you say to a grieving family?
Each condolence, each compliment is deeply felt and deeply appreciated. But
ultimately I like to think the life one lives speaks for itself, both here and
hereafter.
It’s a place where dark humor is used to fend off dark sorrow. My
brother-in-law tells the story of how, at his mother’s funeral, a visitor
looked at the casket and turned to the sister to tell her she looked like her
mother. He whispered to his sister: “You better get a new beautician.”
FuneraLand puts you at the top of the food chain, with friends and
neighbors generously donating meatballs, chicken fingers, pierogies, fruit
baskets, sausage and peppers, turkey and cranberry sauce, pastries and cakes.
There are quirks behind the scenes. Despite appearances, the body isn’t
setting on thick cushions. After the viewing I watched the funeral director
turn a crank that lowered the body deeper into the casket before closing the
lid.
Experience can be benefit for soul
Nearly everything seems to stand still, except money. It moves quickly,
away from the bereaved. In a one-hour visit to the funeral director mom ran up
a bill exceeding $6,000.
The state mandates an itemized list. Here’s a breakdown:
Basic funeral director services, $750. Embalming, $275. Other body
preparation, $65. Use of facilities and staff for viewing, $450. Transfer of
remains to the funeral home, $75. Hearse, $90. Limousine, $90. Sedan, $75.
service vehicle, $75.
Casket, $2,875. The top of the line mahogany coffin cost about $8,000 – the
lid alone seemed to weigh more than dad. Cemetery-mandated “vault” – a 600
pound concrete container the casket goes into – $685.
Acknowledgment cards, register book, prayer cards and copies of death
certificate, $110. Priest’s fee, $100. Cemetery fees, $550.
This doesn’t include the catering bill for the post-funeral lunch, or the
flowers.
Three elderly Veterans of Foreign Wars representatives gave dad – a Purple
Heart winner – a firearms salute at the cemetery service. When they handed mom
the folded flag that had draped the coffin, she cried for the first time since
the death.
Several family members said they want to be cremated. “None of this,” My
brother-in-law said. “Take the money and throw a party.”
Maybe, but a funeral does more than console. The gifts of food, the shared
memories, the last goodbyes, the acknowledgment of accomplishments, are all
acts of the living, and so reaffirm life.
A valuable benefit from the hard trip into the surreal time warp of
FuneraLand.
Call Guydish at 459-2005 or email markg@leader.net