I went to a funeral today - 6 years to the day from when my own mother passed away. The differences between a Catholic funeral and a Jewish funeral are strikingly different - at least in my diocese. When we met with the priest to plan Mom's funeral, he said outright that our church does not allow anyone to come up and speak about the deceased. Honestly, I had not given much thought to what happens at a Catholic funeral, until I had attended a few Jewish funerals. The service at the funeral home chapel or at the synagogue is a celebration of the person's life. Loved ones get up and share why what they most loved about the person, why they will be missed, and what the person meant to them. It may be one person who speaks or three or five. Considering that the clergy often do not know the deceased, it allows the moment to be real. It provides those in the room an opportunity to remember and to mourn.
Catholic funerals are a Mass at which family members play key roles - lectors for each reading, bringing up the gifts in the offertory procession, and readers of The Prayer of the Faithful. The casket is front and center. Prior to Mass, the priest speaks to the family and asks about the deceased. Then he gives a homily that refers to the person. The thing that distinguishes this Mass from any other is the incense that is offered up as the priests ritually walks around the casket.
Catholics in my diocese have a viewing or wake before the funeral. This gives the family and friends a way to celebrate the person's life in small conversations around the room, as mourners pass by the (often open) casket and pay their respects to the immediate family. A viewing is foreign to most Jews. A Jewish friend who attended my mom's viewing was shocked to see the grandchildren and great grandchildren sitting around laughing and talking, with Mom laid out in the other room! To us, it was second nature. In fact, with such a large family, Mom's funeral was a bit unorthodox. The receiving "line" was scattered all around the room as each of us received our friends and took turns sitting with Dad.
As I think back on the funerals for both of my parents and attend Jewish funerals, I can't help but wish that we had had the chance to get up and share our love for our mother with those who were there with us that day. It would have been nice for our friends to get a window on the world that was growing up with Mom.
Now...about Mom.
She was a 90 year old wife, mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother, and her greatest pride was her children's accomplishments.
Born in Philadelphia, she was the proud alumna of an all-girls Catholic high school. She and her husband were original owners of their home in one of the country's original planned communities, where they raised six children. Upon moving into their suburban home, they immediately became parishioners of the local Catholic Church and remained there for more than 55 years.
While raising her children, Mom was a member of the Little League Ladies Auxiliary. She and her friends got together at least once a month for their Tuesday Night Club (which never met on Tuesday). We only used her special dessert dishes and coffee urn on the night when she hosted. Otherwise, they were stored in the closet under the stairs.
When I was growing up, Mom sewed most of her own clothes - and mine too. She believed, like my grandmother did, that the seams should look as good on the inside as they did on the outside.
Although she would never allow me to wear red shoes (they were not for "ladies" to wear), that didn't match the story Dad told me of the night they met on the dance floor. There was a mixer that consisted of each of the girls throwing one shoe into the center of the circle. Then the guys grabbed a shoe and that was who they danced with. Daddy told me that he had been "watching those legs all night" and knew that the red shoe belonged to her! (Aha!) They continued dancing throughout their long life together. I always knew where my parents would be on a Saturday night - he in his suit and she in her silver or gold sandals with matching jewelry, a flowing skirt, or satin palazzo pants. She even had a sequined butterfly shirt.
Mom was a huge Philadelphia Phillies fan, although she knew nothing about baseball until age 80. (She socialized during the boys' games and was known to yell "touch down!" after a home run.)
Although primarily a homemaker, she worked as a secretary before marriage. Then, once I was in 7th grade, she went back to work in a factory making envelopes. Without realizing it, she was out in front as far as being a working mother - leaving for work after I went to school and arriving home with enough time to lay on the floor and put her feet up on the couch for 20 minutes before I got home from school. When Dad retired, they spent the first few months together all the time. Then she told him, "I married you for breakfast and dinner, but not for lunch. I'm going to work!" She spent many happy years dusting knick-knacks in a gift shop and talking with customers about how they were going to decorate their house. We met her at work for dinner twice a week. I never thought about it before, but I guess we were really trailblazers.
My Mom taught me so much about what it means to be a mother and a woman. I am very lucky to have had her as my mom.
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