If you don't party like an extrovert, why would you mourn like one?
Some personal thoughts on grief, mourning, and temperament -- including the eulogy I gave for my mother
This past weekend, we attended the funeral and memorial service of a family friend, a wonderful man who passed away heartbreakingly young, at age 52. He’d been devoted to his wife and family, and his many friends all over the world, and they came from far and wide to mourn him, and to celebrate his life. He and many of his family and friends are very extroverted, so the service consisted of many speeches (some impromptu), with lots of tears but also wine, food, and laughter. As a guest, I felt I’d been given a gift of entering this man’s abundant family and social life - to know its relationships, to hear its stories. After it was over, in addition to sorrow, I felt the familiar pang of having read the final page of a rich and vibrant novel.
But I felt a different kind of pang, too: at how different the funerals had been for my father and mother - so much smaller, so much quieter.