- Joined
- Oct 7, 2008
- Messages
- 61,301
- Location
- Bulgaria
...to me is not when they lower the casket, no.
After we buried our friend on Monday her husband and son invited us to their villa for a meal and drinks something of a funeral party together with some other "family" although as I later found out they were actually their neighbours.
In Bulgaria whenever someone dies the grieving family offers a large meal with salad and bread, kebab and barbecue are not uncommon. Also salami and cheese.
So in line with tradtion and stupid meaningless Christian religion after the funeral we went inside the house and sat round a large table.
Fat ladies came in and started eating like pigs while at the same time with full mouths they asked what type of cancer the deceased had, how did she go to the toilet etc, did her son change her pampers etc.
Then husband of the deceased suddenly remembered his dad's funeral and said out loud "I had to kiss this smelly rotter with foam coming from his mouth. I couldn't do it. He was my father but it was too disgusting. Later I called his spirit and he said he wasn't angry at me."
And a the same time the fat girls kept on munching and and stared at the bereft husband.
OMG!
I sat there shell-shocked.
And worst of all an old man with a huge belly set next to me, drank brandy and ate all the sald that was served and even asked for more. He put his hand on my shoulders to make himself more comfortable thinking I was an extension of the sofa.
I wanted to explode but I was in a sandwich between fat obese girls and white haired man I couldn't move.
The grieving husband then got drunk undid his shirt and you could see his hairy belly size of 500 kg cement bag covering his entire cock area.
I felt like an alien.
What the fuck is this tradition?
Fortunately one of the fat girls needed to take a shit so she freed some space and I escaped outside.
A day later I met people around town and told them that a friend has passed away and only a handful said "condolances."
90% of people pretended they didn't hear me and went on with their activites.
In conclusion the reason why this world isn't going anywhere are humans.
Most of us only care for ourselves.
Forum members tell me "meatpie, you have changed, you look so mature in your new avatar".
Oh yes I have changed! This whole fucking experience taught me a bitter lesson.
1. People avoid talking about death, it's so easy to pretend it doesn't exist.
2. Most people don't know what to say when someone has passed away. Sad but it's a fact.
3. No one can really feel the suffering of others until you suffer it yourself.
Our friend and doctor passed away from an extremely rare type of aggresive cancer called mesothelioma, there is no cure.
In the last months before death the cancer spread to her brain growing in size and pressing on the visual cortex.
She went blind and was paralyzed but could hear everything that was going on.
Now you see why most people don't want to talk about death and dying?
Too horrifying...
After we buried our friend on Monday her husband and son invited us to their villa for a meal and drinks something of a funeral party together with some other "family" although as I later found out they were actually their neighbours.
In Bulgaria whenever someone dies the grieving family offers a large meal with salad and bread, kebab and barbecue are not uncommon. Also salami and cheese.
So in line with tradtion and stupid meaningless Christian religion after the funeral we went inside the house and sat round a large table.
Fat ladies came in and started eating like pigs while at the same time with full mouths they asked what type of cancer the deceased had, how did she go to the toilet etc, did her son change her pampers etc.
Then husband of the deceased suddenly remembered his dad's funeral and said out loud "I had to kiss this smelly rotter with foam coming from his mouth. I couldn't do it. He was my father but it was too disgusting. Later I called his spirit and he said he wasn't angry at me."
And a the same time the fat girls kept on munching and and stared at the bereft husband.
OMG!
I sat there shell-shocked.
And worst of all an old man with a huge belly set next to me, drank brandy and ate all the sald that was served and even asked for more. He put his hand on my shoulders to make himself more comfortable thinking I was an extension of the sofa.
I wanted to explode but I was in a sandwich between fat obese girls and white haired man I couldn't move.
The grieving husband then got drunk undid his shirt and you could see his hairy belly size of 500 kg cement bag covering his entire cock area.
I felt like an alien.
What the fuck is this tradition?
Fortunately one of the fat girls needed to take a shit so she freed some space and I escaped outside.
A day later I met people around town and told them that a friend has passed away and only a handful said "condolances."
90% of people pretended they didn't hear me and went on with their activites.
In conclusion the reason why this world isn't going anywhere are humans.
Most of us only care for ourselves.
Forum members tell me "meatpie, you have changed, you look so mature in your new avatar".
Oh yes I have changed! This whole fucking experience taught me a bitter lesson.
1. People avoid talking about death, it's so easy to pretend it doesn't exist.
2. Most people don't know what to say when someone has passed away. Sad but it's a fact.
3. No one can really feel the suffering of others until you suffer it yourself.
Our friend and doctor passed away from an extremely rare type of aggresive cancer called mesothelioma, there is no cure.
In the last months before death the cancer spread to her brain growing in size and pressing on the visual cortex.
She went blind and was paralyzed but could hear everything that was going on.
Now you see why most people don't want to talk about death and dying?
Too horrifying...