My youngest uncle passed away the day before, and attended his funeral service yesterday. I'd never like funerals. They send shivers down my spine, yet to date i have attended 4, which the goriest of all was that of my student. Even till this day, the image still burns vivid in my mind. Like all, she loved the thrill of speed. One day, her bro and sister-in-law, a friend and her raced along the Kuala Baram road after a BBQ party. Speed thrills but also kills. They had a self-accident and all were killed. Her sis-in-law was expecting then. We (lecturers and coarse-mates) attended their funeral and paid our last respect. We had to walk right up to the coffins and i sort of glanced in. Their faces were distorted due to the impact of the crash and had to be stitched.
Uncle's funeral service was attended by a few close friends, church members and family members. When Dad called to informed us of Uncle's passing, my initial thought was to skip the service in the home and just attended the Mass in St Joseph Catheral. Remembered and reminded that funeral services are in fact for the living, not the dead. Our presence there would comfort and console. Our absence will tell differently of us, thus i made the decision to go all the way...Yupe even to the cemetery.
