Why start a book with a funeral? Funerals are usually the end right? Not the beginning, at least. Honestly, there is no good place to start my random life. So let's just start right here. At this funeral.
It's a sad funeral. But not too, too sad. It's an expected funeral. A funeral for someone who has fought a long, hard battle. That's what they keep saying anyway. "She fought a long, hard battle." I knew her. Years ago. I guess I wasn't a very good friend. I haven't seen her in probably ten years.
A lot can happen in ten years. People move. People get married. Babies are born. But not for this girl. Well, I guess she's not really a girl. She was 47 when she died. Only 10 years older than me. As I was saying, she never did any of those things. She lived in the same house with her parents her whole life. She was unable to care for herself as a normal adult.
Normal. What does that mean anyway. She was normal in that she was her normal self. She was normal to her family. She wasn't what the world would categorize as normal, I guess. She needed help with cooking and dressing. As she got older, she needed help with walking. At the end of her life she couldn't walk at all.
But she was a fun person. She was funny. She was sassy. She was a friend of mine.
So when I heard that she died, I knew I wanted to sing at her funeral. Is that weird? To want to sing at a funeral? I had a strong desire to sing at her funeral. I wanted her family to know that I considered her a good friend. I wanted them to know that she would be remembered.
Did I mention I'm an empath? Well, I just recently learned about empaths and I was like, "Oh! That's why I'm like this!"
I've decided it's not a lot of fun to be an empath. It's actually a real downer most of the time. Taking on other people's emotions is so draining. I'm pretty sure I even take on emotions that they aren't even having, just because I'm afraid they are having them or might possibly have them.
This funeral is really getting to me. Big time.
My brother-in-law giving the message and I am scrutinizing every word. My mind is in overdrive imagining how horribly wrong the family is taking every word out of his mouth.
Why does he keep mentioning her abilities? Or lack thereof?
Please, please, please don't mention me.... ACK! He has mentioned me. He has quoted me. And he quoted me wrong to boot. I bet the family is offended by what I said. I bet they will go home and talk about how I said something that offended them.
Now I am causing more pain instead of comfort. Why did I even come? Why did I ever say those things to my brother-in-law? I bet they didn't even like the song I sang. I only wanted to come and sing to let them know I care! What a failure. No matter what I do.
Now you have had a front row seat to the workings of my mind. It sabotages me like this on the daily.
Now I will have to call all of my sisters on the phone and have them reassure me that I have not offended anyone. I will also ruminate on this for days. Possibly weeks to come. sigh.
