Weddings and Funerals

In the past year, I've attended two funerals and a wedding. It's amazing how both events bring up similar emotions -- in one instance, those emotions have to be hidden.

Weddings have been hard for me for the past 15 years. It all started when my wedding was canceled, not by my partner and I, but by the church. A protest had been planned and all three major television networks and the local paper had invited themselves to join us. The church didn't want the coverage, and I don't blame them. Neither did I. We couldn't just move the ceremony because we didn't know which of our friends might leek the information to the media. I had to spend the most joyous day of my life hidden away in the hopes that the television crews, newspaper journalists, and protestors wouldn't find us.

With that type of trama overshadowing a day I had looked forward to for a good part of my life, it's hard for me to witness the weddings of friends and family. I don't begrudge them their moment, their joy, the support of their family and friends. But the event still touches off the grief I feel from my day being stolen from me.

At most weddings, I am acutely aware of my own pain, which I try to mask so that I can share the joy of the couple being married. This weekend I realized the pain of others present. My neice recently separated from her husband. This weekend would have been her anniversary weekend. My brother's wife died in November last year. Yesterday was his birthday, the first birthday he'd spent without his wife in many years...only to have a wedding to remind him that he is no longer part of a couple. My dad has Alzheimer's. He's in a nursing home and his health is fading. He should have been there to walk down the aisle with my mom as the grandparents of the bride. Mom was left out. No one thought about how awkward it would be for her...not even me.

Beyond my family, I'm sure there were others present with their own pain -- those who have been divorced or single for a long time and are ready for a new relationship but can't find that "one," those who are happily single whose family members keep pressuring them about when they will get married.

I would guess that at least one-fourth of the people in attendance felt their own personal pain and couldn't share it with anyone. It's not the time or the place. A wedding is supposed to be joyous. Push those painful feelings away. Keep them to yourself.

On the flipside is the funeral. No one has to hide what they feel. Telling how you feel and telling your story of your relationship with the deceased is highly encouraged. Everyone holds everyone else's pain gently and with great respect. People look at each other with compassion. Masks have been thrown aside. If one doesn't show pain or grief, we worry about them, watch out for them.

While a wedding is a more joyous occasion, it doesn't have the honesty, openness, and compassion for all like that of a funeral. While I would never wish a funeral on anyone, at this time of my life, I think I can handle funerals much better than weddings.