Dad is dead. or sort of he is. only a little. and not by much. He’ll be dead someday and I’ll speak at his funeral. His friends will come too and I’ll talk to them and say how sad the last of his life was. Because it is sad. It’s sad what happened. but it’s done. that’s how it goes, I think. Life is really a lot of suffering. We roll through it.
Red roses. Black clothing. Heavy atmosphere… “Where’s Grandpa?” “Grandma, he’s not here anymore…”
Sadness.
I glance over and see my father heaving with tears that fall upon my lap like the heaviest raindrops upon a deserts sand.
Funerals are not fun. I mean there is the word fun in funeral, but there is nothing fun about them. Someone you know has just died ( i mean why would you go if you dont even know who’se funeral it is) and you are sad about it.
I’d like to think that everyone is crying dressed in black, mourning my death. Someone gives a speech about how great I was; no one speaks ill of the dead, of me.
The tears streamed down her face and she clung to his hand. He wrapped her in a sweet, strong hug and kissed her cheek and said it was okay. He looked good in black. There’d never been anyone who would come to this with her. She didn’t know why he was always there for her, but she knew that as long as he was, she could make it through.
I told myself I wouldn’t cry. Which looking back, is awfully silly. We were only seventeen. But after a week of hand-holding at the hospital, I was emotionally drained. And I could only stare blankly.
I remember my uncle’s funeral. It was a really dreary day. Even though it was sunny, it was so hard to live through. I couldn’t look up, afraid of seeing him, and I couldn’t even look at my family..afraid of seeing their strewn tears. Watching everyone cry, made me want to. But I coudln’t..I really couldn’t. I had to be strong. For him.
funeral is not fun. eral. eternal? funerals can be fun, I suppose. Why can’t something be fun? I think it depends on your perception, depends on your desires, depends on expectations. There’s an assumption that funerals aren’t fun, but some people buck that trend. Why would you wish for people to be sad? can’t happiness be reverence? Can happiness be serious? I think so. i think funerals should be able to be fun and still meaningful and pay tribute. does it matter what i think, though?
a funeral means that when someone dies its a celebration of their life, like the “memorial service” we held for my brother matt, although that wasn’t a funeral persay, but still. people sometimes go to funerals of people they don’t know and they mourn for them, even though they don’t know them.
May 20. The day a close friend of mine died. He hung himself in his room. I can’t even imagine how he could do that to himself? Up to now, I still can’t believe that he’s gone. I always feel that we’ll meet again anytime at school. I hope, he’s happy where he is now. Or if not, he’s gotten what he deserves.
there he lay. in the bnox at the front of the room. I felt as thought something should be said. Afterall, i wa the reason he was yhere. No on nkew but me and i felt that, somehow, someway, someone should know what had happened. I told him not to eat that fruit. we weren’t even sure it was fruit. sure it had brieght red skin and smelled a little sweet, but i once dated a girl like that \annd she turned out to be crazy as hell. I told him not to eat it. But he did any
funerals are sucha dreary place to most but in them I find comfort, humor and solice. There is something about pondering the meaning of one’s life and if they left anything behind. Can one ever really be important enough to be remembered as the last day they were seen?
I went to a funeral the other day. I was surrounded by black. I never thought I’d see so much darkness in one place – not even at night. It’s a darkness unpolluted by light, and veiled in so much emotion. It’s a darkness of sadness, mourning. I wasn’t dressed in black. I was dressed in hope. Hope that now, since the good woman was gone, everyone would realize that each word she said would have meaning.
It’s weird that this word was the word I need to write about. My mother’s sister passed recently and that’s who I was thinking about the most today. And that’s probably why my day was crappy because I was sad, just like funerals, they’re sad.
In the course of human history, death has hit each one of us like a stone. “It’s a part of life,” they say. “It’s natural.” Death is the most unnatural thing humans experience. By definition, it is not a part of life. It is the eraser that scrapes away everything we learn,experience, and create.
dead people rising to the world and eating peoples flash sooner or later because they are very very very very very….. hungre kind of zach to me a funeral is a cermonal day to somthing
sadness, it reminds me of someone dying of black of mourning in general just a lot of dark stuff. it reminds me of what people must really be thinking there how theve lost a loved one or someone they were close to and it also reminds me of the christmas movie where the guy is in a coffin, and he takes the coins.
This was how it ended. All the people in the world, the brightest, the most daring, dangerous, filthy and wholesome people alike always end up the same way. It’s unavoidable. And now, it was my turn.
I’ve only been to one funeral, and it was beautiful. My great grandmother passed away, and there was a little sadness (sure) but the best part was watching everybody remember her so fondly. My mom remembered that she used to make the best cookies, and the recipe’s a family tradition; my grandparents remembered how sarcastic but loving she was. I don’t mind going to funerals, I think.
There have been millions of funerals in the world, and I don’t know about more than 1 percent of them. But the funerals I do know about, have changed me forever. I could never describe the feeling of a funeral, the weight, the despair, and that eerie feeling in the back of your throat that says they might be alive yet.
The smell of flowers was overpowering, causing his eyes to burn and fill up with water. He has always been prone to sever allergies but for him it was actually very useful. As a funeral director he had long ago become immune to the emotions death should bring upon a human, and his allergies made it appear to the grieving families that that was not the case. It comforted them to feel that even an outsider understood and felt badly right along with them, and that was always good for business.
Chrissy.A mother,sister.daughter,wife. Leaving behind her daughter, my bestfriend jenna a 6th grader. She is gone. A car accident took her so fast. shock is still hitting everyone. Why did you have to go?
Funerals. They are the definition of terrible things. They are pain, fear, hurt, and tears. They mean something terrible has happened to a loved one. they are losing one you love. And they break your heart.They symbolize letting someone go and moving on. A funeral is one of the hardest things to go to…. Funerals happen too often… And are treated as something normal. Funerals.
sad unhappy why did you go i miss you
please come back you didn’t deserve this
i didn’t want to lose you you’re important to me
i have a hard time letting go
i don’t trust easily
i thought you were going to stay
I’m not sad I missed my granddad’s funeral. I was able to see him before he died, even though he couldn’t speak. It was a bit frightening; his fingertips were black and his skin was extremely yellow. But I was able to thank him for everything: the tuition for my school and the family I was given. To me, that was so much more meaningful then being there for his funeral.
John watched the screenplay stoically, a showing of the final cut of The End Of Time. In a way, it was a funeral for the Master, or at least for John’s part in the whole production. A soft sigh escaped his lips, and a thin, bony hand curled tightly into his.
New word, new day, I was thinking, until it popped on my screen, suggesting endings and grief, the migraine crushing Baudelaire’s skull, the opposite of what I keep hoping for.
“Dimitri!” screamed Selena. “Why did you leave me?” Regret poured out of her very core. She had missed an opportunity. An opportunity to be with the man she loved. But he was gone. Swept away by death. Elaina, his murderer dared to show her face. Hidden by shadows, she stared down Selena. Nobody knew what had happened that night. No one but Selena, Elaina, and Dimitri. Dimitri was dead. Elaina wasn’t going to blame herself. No one would believe Selena. Her sister, Alicia, took her hand and led her down to their car.
It was simple really. Life ends. It’s how it’s supposed to go. Sitting there, looking forlornly at a casket. Perhaps I just felt the need to lash out, but I couldn’t sit there any longer. With my finacee glaring at me as I strode out to the car, I couldn’t help but laugh at the silliness of it all. Who would’ve thought I would be watching my own father’s ghost laugh at his own funeral?
The funeral was the most difficult thing Jeff had ever done in his life. At only 15-years-old, he had never had to say good-bye to someone close to him before. Now he was letting go of his best friend. Gregory had been hit by a car the month before, and he had been kept alive on life support up until last week.
Slowly, he made his way to the black case. He didn’t allow himself to cry, but, dispite his best efforts, a single tear ran down his cheek. “Goodbye, Juliana.” he whispered. “I love you.” He closed his eyes. “I loved you.”
A funeral brings with it both celebration and mourning. One mourns for the life lost, yet still celebrates the life lived. What better way to make peace with those we will never see again, but nonetheless will keep alive in our hearts.
Sitting in the lounge I tried to act sorry and sad but i could not. I simply sat there drinking coffee and contemporaneously trying to remember who he was and what he meant to me.
what do you mean dead?
tears steamed down darius’ face.
why are all these people here
why can’t i feel myself crying
everyone is wearing black,
what do you mean this is my funeral?
I thought I saw you standing there bit then I gift, but then I didn’t bbut where else could you have been? Swimming the great depths of unknown oveans? Riding shot gun on a glossing glittery unicorn as it’s horn sears through the clouds only slightly ruffling your hair. Where is anyone anyone. You see I am stamding here peering down at you
No I am sitting watching your grey mistiness encircle me. Wherever I am Im never really there at all I’m riding bicycles into hop scotch squares that are fading in my driveway. I am on a deep sea fishing boat scurrying through the glowing Ickes of a frosty peacefulness. I am apparently self absorbed . Where are you any way?
Dad is dead. or sort of he is. only a little. and not by much. He’ll be dead someday and I’ll speak at his funeral. His friends will come too and I’ll talk to them and say how sad the last of his life was. Because it is sad. It’s sad what happened. but it’s done. that’s how it goes, I think. Life is really a lot of suffering. We roll through it.
Red roses. Black clothing. Heavy atmosphere… “Where’s Grandpa?” “Grandma, he’s not here anymore…”
Sadness.
I glance over and see my father heaving with tears that fall upon my lap like the heaviest raindrops upon a deserts sand.
Funerals are not fun. I mean there is the word fun in funeral, but there is nothing fun about them. Someone you know has just died ( i mean why would you go if you dont even know who’se funeral it is) and you are sad about it.
I’d like to think that everyone is crying dressed in black, mourning my death. Someone gives a speech about how great I was; no one speaks ill of the dead, of me.
The tears streamed down her face and she clung to his hand. He wrapped her in a sweet, strong hug and kissed her cheek and said it was okay. He looked good in black. There’d never been anyone who would come to this with her. She didn’t know why he was always there for her, but she knew that as long as he was, she could make it through.
I told myself I wouldn’t cry. Which looking back, is awfully silly. We were only seventeen. But after a week of hand-holding at the hospital, I was emotionally drained. And I could only stare blankly.
I remember my uncle’s funeral. It was a really dreary day. Even though it was sunny, it was so hard to live through. I couldn’t look up, afraid of seeing him, and I couldn’t even look at my family..afraid of seeing their strewn tears. Watching everyone cry, made me want to. But I coudln’t..I really couldn’t. I had to be strong. For him.
funeral is not fun. eral. eternal? funerals can be fun, I suppose. Why can’t something be fun? I think it depends on your perception, depends on your desires, depends on expectations. There’s an assumption that funerals aren’t fun, but some people buck that trend. Why would you wish for people to be sad? can’t happiness be reverence? Can happiness be serious? I think so. i think funerals should be able to be fun and still meaningful and pay tribute. does it matter what i think, though?
a funeral means that when someone dies its a celebration of their life, like the “memorial service” we held for my brother matt, although that wasn’t a funeral persay, but still. people sometimes go to funerals of people they don’t know and they mourn for them, even though they don’t know them.
May 20. The day a close friend of mine died. He hung himself in his room. I can’t even imagine how he could do that to himself? Up to now, I still can’t believe that he’s gone. I always feel that we’ll meet again anytime at school. I hope, he’s happy where he is now. Or if not, he’s gotten what he deserves.
there he lay. in the bnox at the front of the room. I felt as thought something should be said. Afterall, i wa the reason he was yhere. No on nkew but me and i felt that, somehow, someway, someone should know what had happened. I told him not to eat that fruit. we weren’t even sure it was fruit. sure it had brieght red skin and smelled a little sweet, but i once dated a girl like that \annd she turned out to be crazy as hell. I told him not to eat it. But he did any
death, people wearing black, diamond ear rings, caskets, dogs, maggots, crying, loving, laughing, praying, watching, familiy, friends, gathering, smoking, eating, drinking, company, flying, fighting, cringing, d
funerals are sucha dreary place to most but in them I find comfort, humor and solice. There is something about pondering the meaning of one’s life and if they left anything behind. Can one ever really be important enough to be remembered as the last day they were seen?
I went to a funeral the other day. I was surrounded by black. I never thought I’d see so much darkness in one place – not even at night. It’s a darkness unpolluted by light, and veiled in so much emotion. It’s a darkness of sadness, mourning. I wasn’t dressed in black. I was dressed in hope. Hope that now, since the good woman was gone, everyone would realize that each word she said would have meaning.
sad thing…i don’t get what this is for.
It’s weird that this word was the word I need to write about. My mother’s sister passed recently and that’s who I was thinking about the most today. And that’s probably why my day was crappy because I was sad, just like funerals, they’re sad.
In the course of human history, death has hit each one of us like a stone. “It’s a part of life,” they say. “It’s natural.” Death is the most unnatural thing humans experience. By definition, it is not a part of life. It is the eraser that scrapes away everything we learn,experience, and create.
dead people rising to the world and eating peoples flash sooner or later because they are very very very very very….. hungre kind of zach to me a funeral is a cermonal day to somthing
sadness, it reminds me of someone dying of black of mourning in general just a lot of dark stuff. it reminds me of what people must really be thinking there how theve lost a loved one or someone they were close to and it also reminds me of the christmas movie where the guy is in a coffin, and he takes the coins.
This was how it ended. All the people in the world, the brightest, the most daring, dangerous, filthy and wholesome people alike always end up the same way. It’s unavoidable. And now, it was my turn.
I’ve only been to one funeral, and it was beautiful. My great grandmother passed away, and there was a little sadness (sure) but the best part was watching everybody remember her so fondly. My mom remembered that she used to make the best cookies, and the recipe’s a family tradition; my grandparents remembered how sarcastic but loving she was. I don’t mind going to funerals, I think.
There have been millions of funerals in the world, and I don’t know about more than 1 percent of them. But the funerals I do know about, have changed me forever. I could never describe the feeling of a funeral, the weight, the despair, and that eerie feeling in the back of your throat that says they might be alive yet.
The smell of flowers was overpowering, causing his eyes to burn and fill up with water. He has always been prone to sever allergies but for him it was actually very useful. As a funeral director he had long ago become immune to the emotions death should bring upon a human, and his allergies made it appear to the grieving families that that was not the case. It comforted them to feel that even an outsider understood and felt badly right along with them, and that was always good for business.
Chrissy.A mother,sister.daughter,wife. Leaving behind her daughter, my bestfriend jenna a 6th grader. She is gone. A car accident took her so fast. shock is still hitting everyone. Why did you have to go?
Funerals. They are the definition of terrible things. They are pain, fear, hurt, and tears. They mean something terrible has happened to a loved one. they are losing one you love. And they break your heart.They symbolize letting someone go and moving on. A funeral is one of the hardest things to go to…. Funerals happen too often… And are treated as something normal. Funerals.
sad unhappy why did you go i miss you
please come back you didn’t deserve this
i didn’t want to lose you you’re important to me
i have a hard time letting go
i don’t trust easily
i thought you were going to stay
Miss Mary Mack, mack, mack … all dressed in black, black, black …. what a mad world Miss Mary Mack.
I’m not sad I missed my granddad’s funeral. I was able to see him before he died, even though he couldn’t speak. It was a bit frightening; his fingertips were black and his skin was extremely yellow. But I was able to thank him for everything: the tuition for my school and the family I was given. To me, that was so much more meaningful then being there for his funeral.
John watched the screenplay stoically, a showing of the final cut of The End Of Time. In a way, it was a funeral for the Master, or at least for John’s part in the whole production. A soft sigh escaped his lips, and a thin, bony hand curled tightly into his.
flourish in your time, sweet. smile beneath it. and great with Gustave. touch each point and reciprocate.
New word, new day, I was thinking, until it popped on my screen, suggesting endings and grief, the migraine crushing Baudelaire’s skull, the opposite of what I keep hoping for.
“Dimitri!” screamed Selena. “Why did you leave me?” Regret poured out of her very core. She had missed an opportunity. An opportunity to be with the man she loved. But he was gone. Swept away by death. Elaina, his murderer dared to show her face. Hidden by shadows, she stared down Selena. Nobody knew what had happened that night. No one but Selena, Elaina, and Dimitri. Dimitri was dead. Elaina wasn’t going to blame herself. No one would believe Selena. Her sister, Alicia, took her hand and led her down to their car.
It was simple really. Life ends. It’s how it’s supposed to go. Sitting there, looking forlornly at a casket. Perhaps I just felt the need to lash out, but I couldn’t sit there any longer. With my finacee glaring at me as I strode out to the car, I couldn’t help but laugh at the silliness of it all. Who would’ve thought I would be watching my own father’s ghost laugh at his own funeral?
The funeral was the most difficult thing Jeff had ever done in his life. At only 15-years-old, he had never had to say good-bye to someone close to him before. Now he was letting go of his best friend. Gregory had been hit by a car the month before, and he had been kept alive on life support up until last week.
awwww.. funerals are super sad!!!!!!! :( they suck!
Slowly, he made his way to the black case. He didn’t allow himself to cry, but, dispite his best efforts, a single tear ran down his cheek. “Goodbye, Juliana.” he whispered. “I love you.” He closed his eyes. “I loved you.”
A funeral brings with it both celebration and mourning. One mourns for the life lost, yet still celebrates the life lived. What better way to make peace with those we will never see again, but nonetheless will keep alive in our hearts.
Sitting in the lounge I tried to act sorry and sad but i could not. I simply sat there drinking coffee and contemporaneously trying to remember who he was and what he meant to me.
what do you mean dead?
tears steamed down darius’ face.
why are all these people here
why can’t i feel myself crying
everyone is wearing black,
what do you mean this is my funeral?
I thought I saw you standing there bit then I gift, but then I didn’t bbut where else could you have been? Swimming the great depths of unknown oveans? Riding shot gun on a glossing glittery unicorn as it’s horn sears through the clouds only slightly ruffling your hair. Where is anyone anyone. You see I am stamding here peering down at you
No I am sitting watching your grey mistiness encircle me. Wherever I am Im never really there at all I’m riding bicycles into hop scotch squares that are fading in my driveway. I am on a deep sea fishing boat scurrying through the glowing Ickes of a frosty peacefulness. I am apparently self absorbed . Where are you any way?