I don’t like funerals. I don’t look at open caskets. I’m not one for platitudes or pats on the shoulder or being told that God just needed another angel to heaven. It’s a nice thought, but I’m not quite sure that God was putting together a foursome and thought of Papa. Who knows—maybe that’s exactly what happened.
But I do love the civilities of being Southern and the rituals of a Southern funeral. This is not to say that a Northern funeral is not as nice. I’m sure it is. But I remember attending the funeral in high school when my Northern grandmother died. It wasn’t the same.