Funerals are the most uncomfortable eventd. You want to go and show your support but you don’t have the words to comfort. You want to show emotion, but what if you didn’t know the deceased? If it is someone you know, nothing you say comes out properly and you feel like you didn’t do them justice. It’s a no-win situation.
funerals scare me
worry me
freak me out
i don’t like funerals
do you like funerals?
who could like funerals?
why do people laugh and smile at funerals?
I can’t believe today is the day. It seems like I just saw him yesterday, like he was in the present tense, and is now in the past. It makes me realize how short live is, how little time we have. A funeral is in everybody’s future, and time is just the illusion of getting there.
I wish I went to Thomas’s funeral. It was last week. I may not have said it, but he meant a lot to me. I still cry when I think about him but I’m glad to remember all the good times we had. I want to go visit his grave.
Sad times, though possibly happy because I can think of many who I want to leave this planet simply because they are evil, horrible human beings, I think its stupid how people wear black because DUH you want your life to be celebrated don’t you? So when I die I invite everybody to wear any colour they choose and play Red Hot Chili Peppers- Slow Cheetah, please?
My curly black locks flowed around my face as I looked down, into that cold, desperate casket. My eyes threatened to overflow with tears, but I kept them at bay with a tissue. Why did he have to .. die? I hated that word. Die, death, anything related was terrible. But why did he have to go? Him of all people. He was my first crush, my first kiss, and overall.. he was my first love.
death and sadness, burrying people you love. life ending. Watching people around you remember the person who died. How did this person effect everyone elses life? What would they say if they could be there watching the whole thing. Are they present?
He hadn’t cried since that day. It was cliche but true. With her gone, what was there left to mourn? Nothing could ever rival that sorrow or leave deeper wounds upon his heart.
Sad things, aren’t they? Funerals. Death, remorse, sadness. Murder. Lots of things would course through my mind at a funeral. In fact, I was at one not three months ago. Terrible things, funerals are. What happens if the person isn’t really dead, though? Does that ever happen? What if someone is buried alive and doesn’t die until… after their funeral?
I began the day eating angel’s food cake and squinting my eyes at the sunshine that was flooding in through the kitchen window. The taste of sugar was filling up my mouth and I had no idea that anything but sweetness existed in the world. I didn’t know it was the day of my first funeral. I didn’t know even know what ‘dead’ meant.
Calm, deep organ chords, soft, soothing hymns from the choir – then there’s the Chinese element; everyone is clutching red strings. Elsie’s in front, her skin almost as white as her dress – I see her from behind. A woman hands me a piece of red string. She doesn’t know me – that’s good. I absently twine it around my fingers this way and that, and make knots in it, eyes on Elsie but in peripheral vision mode. Then a certain man in a muddied plaid shirt gets up from his pew. He begins to turn around, my cue to disappear back behind the stained-glass back door.
you didn’t go to the wake and you didn’t go to the mass; couldn’t bring yourself to, too wrecked by guilt and grief that continued to choke you, suffocate you, wake you up in the middle of the night with your pillow stained and your cheeks sticky and damp. but the burial… you made it to that, at least, though you watched everything from a long distance away and were barely able to see the casket laid into the ground. six feet down, and your heart fell with it.
i hate funerals. they are sad. i’d rather throw myself a huge celebration/party than have a funeral for myself. i want people to be happy. not sad… funerals are sad.
You never know when it is coming, so it is better to make preparations early, my mother used to say. But sometimes, despite months of warnings, weeks of mental preparations, days of running through every single memory, every single thing she wished for, every single regret you felt because you never did something, the blow can still strike you like a hammer can slam into your head.
Around me, people bustle around, combing my hair, arranging my clothes, making snide remarks of drying their tears, while I lie, unmoving, confused, in a shiny wooden box.
The dark suits, the sombre expressions and the fragrant array of flowers all point to this being a funeral, however I see no tears, no coffin and no tea cakes.
I had to go to my great grandfathers funeral when I was in the sixth grade and that was the only time I ever saw my father cry. I went to school right after and cried and cried my eyes out because I felt so sad for my father, it was strange to see him show emotion.
Bob went to the funeral. He thought it only right – for Agatha if not for himself. The brown oak coffin paraded slowly down the church island as kings and queens bowed their heads in tribute. A pure White sheet lay across her bow while a small child broke the air infront.
something and a place i visited a lot as a kid my dad would always take me and I’d stand around with all of his cousins by their cars .. just visiting with one another. I saw my grandpa walk by me once at Tillie’s son’s funeral…
I dont like funerals, I dont know how to fake being sad .. I like that life ends. it is natural. for everything… I feel bad for prople that feel bad at funerals…
The celebration comes is varied forms. All of a different colour. If you didn’t celebrated your birthdays enough, there’s always the funeral. Perhaps your tongue would have become ashes… or the earth, and wine will tingle in other mouths. It is a celebration all the same.
what funeral? I’ve never been to one. I don’t think about funerals. they’re awful. One thing ist hat I’m not sure that I’m actually putting out what I”m thinking. I don’t think that I’m thinking properly. Anyway, funeral. Um. Why do I have to think about funeral and write about it? Damn it, is 60 seconds up yet? No? Okay, I’ll wait. What is this for anyway?
He layed there. lifeless. I didn’t know how to feel. I didn’t know how i was supposed to feel. Maybe I should be crying, but i can’t seem to. Is that wrong?
funerals
full of sadness and
longing
the expression on your face
masking the pain and
embracing it
knowing he wasn’t there
all of a sudden, gone
gone
how could he be?
he could he leave us
to plan this day
not expected for years?
The joy of a funeral
You loved em
Or not
It’s terrific
The thought
The thought of the dead
The dieing
The deceased
It’s all sadly pleasant
Once you get to the feast
Death at a Funeral. Something I have never been to, a play I have never seen, a movie I have never watched. Wearing all black sounds like something I should be able to do outside of funeral. Why is black associated with death? I wish I knew. I look good in black. Does that make me Death? I hope not. Again, never been to a funeral.
‘Don’t want to go’, you said.
‘You have to, to pay your respect to the one you helped kill’, said the Boss.
After a short discussion , you acquiesced and went to the funeral and the following wake begrudgingly. Full well knowing that it was your actions, if not your hands, that put the man in the small wooden box he would now rot in.
Why is this the time when i have the most fun with a large group of family? is it just me? Is it because no one is rude enough to make a scene or cause an argument? Does grieving bring out the best in people?
All funeral messages can be expressed in so many different ways, there’s no right way or wrong way. It can be expressed as a funeral eulogy either written or even funeral speeches Funeral poetry is also a favorite.
Whatever means of expression you choose, remember it must fit you. Speak from the heart even if it happens to be a funeral prayer.
A funeral message shouldn’t be confused with a funeral notice also known as an obituary.
Funerals are the most uncomfortable eventd. You want to go and show your support but you don’t have the words to comfort. You want to show emotion, but what if you didn’t know the deceased? If it is someone you know, nothing you say comes out properly and you feel like you didn’t do them justice. It’s a no-win situation.
funerals scare me
worry me
freak me out
i don’t like funerals
do you like funerals?
who could like funerals?
why do people laugh and smile at funerals?
I can’t believe today is the day. It seems like I just saw him yesterday, like he was in the present tense, and is now in the past. It makes me realize how short live is, how little time we have. A funeral is in everybody’s future, and time is just the illusion of getting there.
I wish I went to Thomas’s funeral. It was last week. I may not have said it, but he meant a lot to me. I still cry when I think about him but I’m glad to remember all the good times we had. I want to go visit his grave.
Sad times, though possibly happy because I can think of many who I want to leave this planet simply because they are evil, horrible human beings, I think its stupid how people wear black because DUH you want your life to be celebrated don’t you? So when I die I invite everybody to wear any colour they choose and play Red Hot Chili Peppers- Slow Cheetah, please?
My curly black locks flowed around my face as I looked down, into that cold, desperate casket. My eyes threatened to overflow with tears, but I kept them at bay with a tissue. Why did he have to .. die? I hated that word. Die, death, anything related was terrible. But why did he have to go? Him of all people. He was my first crush, my first kiss, and overall.. he was my first love.
She puts the ‘fun’ in funeral. Not necessarily a shining endorsement, but it’s true.
death and sadness, burrying people you love. life ending. Watching people around you remember the person who died. How did this person effect everyone elses life? What would they say if they could be there watching the whole thing. Are they present?
He hadn’t cried since that day. It was cliche but true. With her gone, what was there left to mourn? Nothing could ever rival that sorrow or leave deeper wounds upon his heart.
Sad things, aren’t they? Funerals. Death, remorse, sadness. Murder. Lots of things would course through my mind at a funeral. In fact, I was at one not three months ago. Terrible things, funerals are. What happens if the person isn’t really dead, though? Does that ever happen? What if someone is buried alive and doesn’t die until… after their funeral?
There she was. Just laying there. I can see her from behind my sister, behind my mother, behind my aunt. My feelings were lost, and that saddened me.
I began the day eating angel’s food cake and squinting my eyes at the sunshine that was flooding in through the kitchen window. The taste of sugar was filling up my mouth and I had no idea that anything but sweetness existed in the world. I didn’t know it was the day of my first funeral. I didn’t know even know what ‘dead’ meant.
Calm, deep organ chords, soft, soothing hymns from the choir – then there’s the Chinese element; everyone is clutching red strings. Elsie’s in front, her skin almost as white as her dress – I see her from behind. A woman hands me a piece of red string. She doesn’t know me – that’s good. I absently twine it around my fingers this way and that, and make knots in it, eyes on Elsie but in peripheral vision mode. Then a certain man in a muddied plaid shirt gets up from his pew. He begins to turn around, my cue to disappear back behind the stained-glass back door.
you didn’t go to the wake and you didn’t go to the mass; couldn’t bring yourself to, too wrecked by guilt and grief that continued to choke you, suffocate you, wake you up in the middle of the night with your pillow stained and your cheeks sticky and damp. but the burial… you made it to that, at least, though you watched everything from a long distance away and were barely able to see the casket laid into the ground. six feet down, and your heart fell with it.
i hate funerals. they are sad. i’d rather throw myself a huge celebration/party than have a funeral for myself. i want people to be happy. not sad… funerals are sad.
Sadness fills the room as slow pacing people walk to the stairs. Everything is silent.
You never know when it is coming, so it is better to make preparations early, my mother used to say. But sometimes, despite months of warnings, weeks of mental preparations, days of running through every single memory, every single thing she wished for, every single regret you felt because you never did something, the blow can still strike you like a hammer can slam into your head.
Around me, people bustle around, combing my hair, arranging my clothes, making snide remarks of drying their tears, while I lie, unmoving, confused, in a shiny wooden box.
The dark suits, the sombre expressions and the fragrant array of flowers all point to this being a funeral, however I see no tears, no coffin and no tea cakes.
I had to go to my great grandfathers funeral when I was in the sixth grade and that was the only time I ever saw my father cry. I went to school right after and cried and cried my eyes out because I felt so sad for my father, it was strange to see him show emotion.
Im going to a funeral.
There will be people there
There will be a dead person there
I’m want to go to a happy place
but I want to see my friend
Bob went to the funeral. He thought it only right – for Agatha if not for himself. The brown oak coffin paraded slowly down the church island as kings and queens bowed their heads in tribute. A pure White sheet lay across her bow while a small child broke the air infront.
Funeral … i’ve never been to one.
Depressing
Sad
Cry
Rain
Tears.
November rain.
Red roses and gray coffin.
Black allover.
End.
something and a place i visited a lot as a kid my dad would always take me and I’d stand around with all of his cousins by their cars .. just visiting with one another. I saw my grandpa walk by me once at Tillie’s son’s funeral…
never been to one. white. black. dark. cold. cry. rain. guns’n’roses. that’s what i see .
end of life. no fun. coffin
today’s word is funeral for days. why dont you just refresh your site?
i’ve never been to a funeral, and i’m 18. okay well that’s a lie, i’ve been to one. but i was like 12. same with weddings, i’ve been to one that idr.
depression
end of life
maloncholy
ceaseness
enterance into a new world
I dont like funerals, I dont know how to fake being sad .. I like that life ends. it is natural. for everything… I feel bad for prople that feel bad at funerals…
The celebration comes is varied forms. All of a different colour. If you didn’t celebrated your birthdays enough, there’s always the funeral. Perhaps your tongue would have become ashes… or the earth, and wine will tingle in other mouths. It is a celebration all the same.
what funeral? I’ve never been to one. I don’t think about funerals. they’re awful. One thing ist hat I’m not sure that I’m actually putting out what I”m thinking. I don’t think that I’m thinking properly. Anyway, funeral. Um. Why do I have to think about funeral and write about it? Damn it, is 60 seconds up yet? No? Okay, I’ll wait. What is this for anyway?
He layed there. lifeless. I didn’t know how to feel. I didn’t know how i was supposed to feel. Maybe I should be crying, but i can’t seem to. Is that wrong?
Perayaan-Perayaan di Malaysia
hate. too many. loss. grief.
funerals
full of sadness and
longing
the expression on your face
masking the pain and
embracing it
knowing he wasn’t there
all of a sudden, gone
gone
how could he be?
he could he leave us
to plan this day
not expected for years?
The joy of a funeral
You loved em
Or not
It’s terrific
The thought
The thought of the dead
The dieing
The deceased
It’s all sadly pleasant
Once you get to the feast
It was quiet, white and Catholic. She didn’t really know anyone there.
Death at a Funeral. Something I have never been to, a play I have never seen, a movie I have never watched. Wearing all black sounds like something I should be able to do outside of funeral. Why is black associated with death? I wish I knew. I look good in black. Does that make me Death? I hope not. Again, never been to a funeral.
‘Don’t want to go’, you said.
‘You have to, to pay your respect to the one you helped kill’, said the Boss.
After a short discussion , you acquiesced and went to the funeral and the following wake begrudgingly. Full well knowing that it was your actions, if not your hands, that put the man in the small wooden box he would now rot in.
Why is this the time when i have the most fun with a large group of family? is it just me? Is it because no one is rude enough to make a scene or cause an argument? Does grieving bring out the best in people?
All funeral messages can be expressed in so many different ways, there’s no right way or wrong way. It can be expressed as a funeral eulogy either written or even funeral speeches Funeral poetry is also a favorite.
Whatever means of expression you choose, remember it must fit you. Speak from the heart even if it happens to be a funeral prayer.
A funeral message shouldn’t be confused with a funeral notice also known as an obituary.