Celebration of life
Yesterday we celebrated my little brother’s life. It wasn’t a “memorial service,” it wasn’t a “funeral,” and “celebration of life,” like it is used so much, in this case, was not a euphemism. It was exactly that — a celebration. But there were some other things it was not, and should not be confused with. It was not a party. It was not anything anyone was exactly looking forward to. It was not intended to provide any kind of closure, but it probably did do that for some. The word, “celebration,” has many connotations, but in this case, we did celebrate.
There were a few tears, but more laughs. There were lots of stories, most I’ve heard, but a few I have not, and some managed to surprise me. It was an occasion that was as unique and the person it honored. It kind of had to be. Anyone who knew , knows me and my father, likely was not surprised by the nature of the occasion. Many learned a lot about who he was from a much more intimate perspective — that was by design, but regarding what was included, and, more specifically, what was not, no one should have been at all surprised.
We are not religious people. Not remotely. Speaking for myself, it goes well beyond that, but let’s just say the apple, in that respect, did not fall far from the tree. My point here is not a treatise into pro or anti religion. I don’t care what anyone believes so long as it doesn’t harm anyone else. Period. My brother’s service did not have any trappings of any religion — it wasn’t “non-denominational” or “multi-denomination” or even “all-inclusive” in that all beliefs were somehow written in. None were. No, they were not denounced, either. It wasn’t an “atheistic” celebration, it was just a celebration that did not “go there.” Not there, and not over there, either. All of “all that,” all of it, was left out. In fact, it was never let in to be left out.
And it didn’t need to be there. It was perfect just the way it was. We celebrated my brother and his life, and it was him — only him — that was the focus of our attention. Beliefs or lack thereof were never mentioned, never part of it, never necessary, never given a thought… never missed. And when it’s my time, those in charge of whatever y’all decide to do, here are my official wishes: First, I officially don’t care, I’ll be dead. Second, if you do do something, do it just like David’s was yesterday; I’ll be cool with it.
Originally published at https://www.michaelalthouse.com.