To my mother, a funeral is an opportunity to shine.
Never mind that she didn’t like the person.
Never mind if she criticized them, spread lies about them, or sent a lawyer’s letter accusing them of something.
She stands up in church to speak.
Yesss… People are gonna see me in the outfit I
carefully chose this morning.
She delivers precisely considered words praising the deceased. She finishes by explaining how that person helped her develop some
quality or other, a roundabout way of touting her own virtues. Two birds, one
stone.
