The Importance of the Funeral

"Did you go to Sam's funeral? How was it? Who was there?"

That, my friends, is how the conversation about a funeral usually begins.

I have been going to the funeral home for as long as I can remember.  I don't ever remember not going to the funeral home.  Losing a loved one is never easy and the grief is crippling as it is for everybody, but it is with great dignity that Italians deal with the business of death.  It's not taboo to discuss death or people who have died.  There is a difference between dealing with death and dealing with the business of death.

Funerals are important events in the Italian community.  Respect is a big thing in our culture and funerals are one of the main places where respect is shown (or intentionally not shown).  

Let's start at the beginning, the layout of the obituary and what people read into it.  Did it say "loving husband"? How were the children listed? Were their spouses mentioned?  All of them?  Did it list the grandchildren?  What about the siblings?  Even the one they're upset with? Who did it mention in the "predeceased by" section?

We ask questions that probe how that respect was displayed:

• "Who was in the reception line and IN WHAT ORDER?"
• "Was so-and-so there? Really?  Wow."
• "Was the casket open? How did they look?  Good?"
• "Were there a lot of flowers? From who?"
• If the deceased was divorced "Was their ex there?"
• "Who came from out of town? Anybody from Italy?"

My favourite questions is "how did they look?".  This is in reference to the deceased.

Some people look to see if the widow is wearing 110% black.  (There are people who watch after to see when the black gives way and colour starts to come back into the wardrobe)

You see the people in line probing the flowers to see who sent them.  

If a member of our family member is sick, we make sure we tell the family as we pass through the reception line.  It's more important to the sick person than it is for the grieving family, but we still tell them.

Another big question is who the pall-bearers were.  That question is as big as "who was in the wedding party?" or "who are the Godparents?"  I have been a pall bearer over twenty times and I make sure I tell my dad.  It's an honour for me, but he also likes to know that stuff.  One man had seven siblings so the family had eight pall bearers so no family was excluded and offended.  Eight people on a six handle casket.

If there is more than one priest serving the mass, well that moves the deceased up a few notches.  I was at a funeral of a former employee of the church and there were seven priests on the altar.  That's a person you want to know ... too bad they're gone.

The procession of cars was also a big deal, but it's slowly fading away.  There was a procession from the funeral home to the church.  Then from the church to the cemetery with a detour to pass by the house.  One paesano had his procession go by his mother's house, his house and his business on the way to the cemetery.  He lived in a cul-de-sac so that made it tricky.  The procession was OK when the distances were shorter.  With the community spread out, the process gets crazy so the house is no longer a regular feature.  Tangs-a-God for that.

FYI.  People still pull over for funeral processions in Welland.  It's a big deal for everybody that catches big-city-folk off guard.

What about back in Italy?  Did they post notices on the walls of their home town? Was there a memorial mass? Are people talking about the death?  Did any telegrams show up?

Something to read while having their gelato

There is a pecking order in our culture.  It's important that we know what the pecking order is and it's important that it's displayed in the right places.  The funeral home is one of those places. It's probably THE place. 

Example:  If an elderly gentleman passes away, some people look at the order of the reception line.  Are the children in line with their spouses or are they in line together and their spouses are together down the line?  Where are the deceased siblings?  Between the children and spouses or the end of the line?  You don't think that's a big deal?  I have to think there is no message there, but some people will read a message into it. "His brother lent him a lot of money ... he should have been between the wife and the oldest son.  Hmmm.... why is the oldest son third in line and not first?  Boy, he got fat!"

To an outsider this might sound like petty stuff, but to Italians funerals are SERIOUS business. Although we joke about it, the younger generation takes it seriously too, and not because we are afraid of our parents.  (We are afraid of them, but that's not the reason)  When I had an office downtown, my co-worker and I walked to the "Italian" funeral home at least four times per month to pay our respect to somebody's family.  90% of our intention was to pay our respects directly to the family.  10% was to make sure somebody from our family paid their respects.

Some people don't understand why we do some of the things we do.  When you tell people you're going to visit the family between the death and when the funeral happens, they are intimidated by that.  It bothers some to hear an older person tell another old person that their new suit will also look good on them when they die.

Where is all this going?

When I was 15 years old, my father and I were in Detroit for a visit and coming home.  In Windsor, at 11:45am, my father panicked and remembered that he had a dentist appointment at 3:00pm in Welland.  The appointment was rescheduled for one that he missed and he dared not miss again.  Back then, the drive from Welland to Windsor involved Highway 401, a not-yet-finished Highway 403 and a lot of side roads.  (For Ontarians, at that time, the only completed part of  Highway 403 was a short strip from Brantford to Paris) His intention was to complete a 4-hour drive in 3.25 hours.  As pressed for time as he was and determined to get to Welland by 3pm, he pulled over for three different funerals through the small towns we drove through.  THREE.  He was cursing himself each time for making the goal more difficult, but pulled over anyway.  Three times.  I told him we were in places where nobody knew us and he had to go and he said that didn't matter.  We pulled into his dentist's parking lot at 3:05pm.  That was a scary ride where he probably put our lives at risk, but at least he wouldn't have to live with the guilt of not showing his respect for a deceased individual. Or three. Good ol' Tony.

(P.S.  How important is respect? After I wrote this I reread twice to ensure I didn't offend anybody)