Checking in

[textualdeviance]

It's been fairly calm here so far, all told. Mike is mostly dealing with the business that needs to be done-- funeral and internment arrangements, obit listings, deciding what to do with Dale's stuff, that sort of thing. He's holding up incredibly well, all considered, but he sort of has to. I'm sort of just flying blind, myself, doing what I can when I can, but still feeling very weird, and almost intrusive on something so intimate that I'm not really a part of since I never really knew Dale well, and I've never been all that comfortable with the family, given the religion issue (among other things, like his dad being a total prick), and what that means for how they deal with me.

The service is Saturday, at the church, which is going to feel strange. I don't do well with heavily religious services as it is, even for positive things like weddings, so this is going to be weird. Every time I'm somewhere where people start praying, I feel like a heretic because I don't pray with them. I don't lower my head, close my eyes, whatever. I just go into respectful silence while they say their words. I don't believe in deities, nor in prayer (although meditation and the occasional desperate, spat plea to the cosmos for some thing or other I find useful now and then) so it's really dishonest for me to pretend to pray along with them. I respect others' beliefs, of course (even though I disagree with the political stances of most religions, I accept the dogma as being a personal choice), but I also take religion seriously enough that I don't feel comfortable pretending to participate in a ritual which has no spiritual significance for me. But I may have to this time. This isn't exactly the right time for me to make a point of telling everyone that no, I'm not Mormon, and not even Christian. And let's not get started on the other stuff.

There was a strange little thing that happened yesterday related to that, too. One of the family friends stopped by, and saw my car sitting out front. The one festooned with rainbow stickers and my spiffy new Kerry/Edwards sticker. She came in and chit chatted and said she couldn't figure whose car that would be, and then looked at me and Mike and said, "then I realized, oh, that must be Mike's husband's car." She went pink at her mistake. I didn't correct her, I just kind of smiled blithely, and squeezed Mike's hand. We've had a nice (and extremely needed) laugh about that since.

I'm just going to try to navigate this as best I can, and hope I don't have to field a lot of questions from the extended family about when we're going to have kids, or be expected to help out the womenfolk in the kitchen or whatever. I'm wearing pants to the service. I figure that's safer than showing off my hairy legs. And I'm *quite* glad I haven't been asked to sing. I don't like to sing at emotional events involving people I know. Worst performance conditions, ever.

Thanks so much for everyone's words yesterday. It's weird, but those little statements do matter, and help.

Comments

[shireling76.livejournal.com]

try not to sweat church, it'll be over quick enough. reguardless of what anyone else may think, mike's fortunate to have you. hairy legs and all. after this will be home together and dealing with each day from there without dale.

no one could argue heresy with you when you're giving your respect to his brother as you all say goodbye. your presence there is enough. peace be with you shawna...and the meaning of those words stand entirely on their own without religious doctrine ~angie

[thefirstalicat.livejournal.com]

Re the church service thing: try to think of your being there just as a support for your husband, and let the religious-speak just wash over you. When my brother died, my mom put together a memorial service at her church a month later, which Chris and I flew to SF to attend; like you, I'm pretty down on organized religion and don't have any belief in my mother's god, but she wanted that service to help her and if she wanted us there to support her, that was okay. Incidentally, it did also give me a sort of formalized space of time in which to say my own goodbyes to Ian, and although I'd already really done so, any chance one has for a time of reflection is good, I think....

[noipeh.livejournal.com]

I've been at a few funerals (and weddings for that matter) that made me suppremely uncomfortable. You just endure, and remember the reason you are really there. To show support for the person you love (Mike in this case) and to honor the memory of the person who died. He did fight the good fight, from all you've said. It'll be over eventually, and you can go succor your man.

>>>I don't like to sing at emotional events involving people I know. Worst performance conditions, ever

Why do people do that to you? I've been asked to sing at several of those events. The absolute worst being the friend who's mother was murdered by her brother's newly released cell mate. Who was then shot dead in the convenience store down the street. Never again.