I'm like Kyle is with funerals. I just absolutely hate them, and don't go unless it's a close relative.
Back in the 8th grade, a classmate was killed while plowing a field. The field was on a side hill, and he hit a piece of ledge, causing the tractor to roll over on him. It took forever for the ambulance to arrive, and he suffered terribly before he finally died. Inspite of the fact that he was terribly injured, his parents had an open casket funeral. It was quite a shock for a kid who'd never been to a funeral, to look at his swollen head and bruised up face. His head was the size of a basketball. It scared the hell out of me!
I've been to 5 funerals since... 2 grandmothers, a grandfather, a friend's father, and my own father. Every time I walk into that funeral parlor, I see young Robert lying in his casket.
My brother, who is the funeral director/mortician, says I need to seek therapy.
