My New “Social” Life

My new “social” life is quite “lively.” My old social life used to be filled with dinner invitations and evenings at the theater. Now, however, my calendar is occupied by traveling to — and attending — funerals and memorial services.

Ironically, going to these “events” reminds me a lot of dating!

My New Social Life

I spend a lot of time planning what to wear, wondering who will be there, what couples will still be together, and what kind of small talk to make. Yes, it’s a lot like dating, painful and awkward, but, of course, way — and irreversibly — worse.

When I was young and attended a funeral, I could not understand why oldsters socialized and chatted up a storm. It was unseemly or at least so it seemed in my judgmental mind. “Stop chatting,” I wanted to scream. “Stop smiling.”

Now I get all the “hail and good fellow” convivial chit chat. It’s the indoor version of whistling past the graveyard.

It’s also an opportunity for a reunion of sorts — a chance to bring the old gang together while those of us who can stand are still standing. We come from around the block, around the country, perhaps across the globe. We come to remember and reconnect.

Our conversations are sweet and sadly familiar:

“He/she was such a good guy/gal.”
“He/she went too soon.”
“He/she suffered a long time.”
Or
“It was so sudden. I didn’t know he/she was sick.”

We tell old jokes and old stories, and when we finish the conversations about the departed and his/her family, we begin the business of catching up on our own lives.

Kvetching (complaining) about our aches and pains seems inappropriate in the setting. So, “The I Ache, Therefore I Am” conversations are kept to a minimum. Instead, we talk about “lighter” fare.

“How are your kids?” The grandkids?”
“How’s retirement treating you?”
“Any travel plans?”

My New Social Life … And Future Planning

In this new whirlwind milieu of mourning, I’ve become attentive to nuance and style. In fact, I’ve started taking notes about what parts of services I like and want to “use” for my own when my expiration date comes due.

Yes, you know you’re old when you’re developing “Who Departed Best” lists!

After a recent memorable memorial service, I asked Handsome Hubby who he wanted to officiate at his service. After looking alarmed and asking if I knew something he didn’t, HH thought for a moment and named a particularly close friend.

I, a born critic, didn’t hesitate for a moment and rejected his choice. “Oh, no, he’s boring,” I declared. “He doesn’t know a thing about pacing or timing.”

HH looked dismayed. “But he’s one of my oldest friends. Who do you want? Henny Youngman? Stephen Colbert?”

I thought to myself, “Well, yes, kind of. You want to keep things lively. Keep the crowd entertained.”
The conversation devolved quickly, and no resolution as to the program, I mean, service was achieved.

Fortunately, HH and I are both in relatively good shape. So, there’s time to hash all this out.

HH may opt for sincerity, but as for me, I want to go out with aplomb and laughter. Yes, while some focus on the going to Heaven part of the service, my attention is on other details.

I want my memorial service to get a rare rave Critic’s Choice review, ideally by The New York Times, but at least by the attendees. And while we’re at it, let’s make the service available on Zoom to maximize attendance (chat box open for non-catty bereavement comments, of course) for those who can’t fly in. Sorry, it’s the Broadway Baby in me, tap dancing all the time, even into eternity.