Why do we ignore friends, sometimes for years, and then go out of our way to attend their wake? I don’t know how you feel about this topic, but I get myself into a tizzy over missing a wake. Over the years, wakes have caused me extreme anxiety. I found that missing the wake of an associate, acquaintance, co-worker, friend, sibling, or life partner depends on how close the individual is to me. By close, I mean genetically. Of course, there is a second level of closeness that involves distance or social association.
As I approach my own wake, my attitude is shifting. I never thought of missing a wake when I was more physically robust. Now, as my physicality diminishes, I am no longer bothered by not attending. Really, what can I do for the person involved? Most of the time, I don’t know anyone there, and the only guy I know is in the coffin. I pass by him, say a prayer, thank him for being my friend, and keep moving. Sometimes I will introduce myself to the widow and tell her how I knew her husband.
When it is all done, I look for friends I know to catch up with them and learn about their lives. Finally, I retreat and go home feeling good about giving the dead person a farewell. Did the deceased have a better outcome by my visit? I will not have a clue until I reach him after my own journey to the afterlife. At best, attending a wake at which the only one I know rests in the casket or an urn might make a difference to the widow or children of the deceased.
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