No sooner had we stepped into 2022 than my mother stepped out of this world. At the chapel in the cemetery, before she was laid to rest, friends and relatives warmly extolled her fulfilling life.
Exalted praise of someone who has just passed away is nothing extraordinary. Rarely mentioned in tributes are the failings of the deceased. On the contrary, he/she is invariably invested with exemplary qualities and portrayed as a paragon of virtue. Occasionally, people who have assembled to pay their last respects can barely recognise in the still silent figure being acclaimed, the far-from-faultless individual they had known.
This is probably why I recall a discordant note at a funeral I once attended. In his eulogy, a gentleman lightly remarked that his colleague in the casket had not been perfect. He proceeded to elaborate on the statement, narrating a few embarrassing anecdotes. His tone was affectionate rather than critical, however, and the grieving widow smiled through her tears.
Traditionally, one does not speak ill of the dead, especially not during the final farewell. What happens later depends on the person’s earthly existence. Nobody will continue to commend the departed man or woman if he or she has never done anything worthwhile.
The reverse is also true. Those who have endeared themselves to others will be fondly remembered, long after their mortal remains have been consigned to dust or flames.
In Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, Mark Antony delivers an impassioned speech in honour of his assassinated leader. He bitterly declares: "The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones." Anyone familiar with the play will be aware that the orator has his own agenda. We have no reason to share Antony’s cynicism.
There are human beings, whose kindness, generosity and readiness to give of themselves will never be forgotten. The good they have done, like the heart in Celine Dion’s famous Titanic song, will go on!