Funeral Parlors
I hate funerals and even more funeral parlors. Dead bodies don’t bother me. But the flowers, priests garbs hanging on the walls and pictures were bothersome. Even more bothersome was that my father’s cold body laid in a coffin and hardly anything about him was recognizable. He was recognizable in the hospital over the past few weeks. And I guess I hope he would look better at the funeral parlor, but he looked even worse.
And he was holding rosary beads. My Father never held rosary beads.
My father’s comb over was gone. While he was alive, I wished he would cut it. He looked like a generic old man without it.
AND he was missing his glasses. He wore glasses all my life – even when he fell asleep he had his glasses on most of the time.
But his lips were no longer parched and he didn’t feel the pain any more.
I took out my camera and took pictures. Strange, right? I wasn’t sure if I was seeing when I thought I was seeing. And I knew I would want another look. I took pictures of Leon’s Uncle because he looked so peaceful when he went to Heaven. I guess my Dad looked the same way.
Hugs,
marlene
Topics: Brooklyn | No Comments »