Problems With Irwin Funeral Home

Friends,

I've returned to Mankato-land after a breakneck rally through my hometown visiting family and friends. Nothing like speeding around the StL metro area for four days bookended by ten-hour drives through Iowa. It was good to see everyone, and I regret seeing the ones I didn't talk to, and I look forward to future trips and more ten-hour drives. Actually, Emily discovered a miraculous 9 hour corridor to the StL, so that's much better.

I've dodged talking about this on here, but during my stay I attended the funeral of one of my uncles. He was my mom's oldest brother, and it was extremely shocking and depressing to my family. No one saw this coming so soon for Uncle Dave, and he will be missed. He was cremated, so they had several pictures of him around the funeral parlor on posterboard from him as a little boy up until this past Christmas (he died on December 27th). Those were nice to see, especially seeing parts of my family that I hadn't seen. For example, I don't think I had ever seen a picture of Grandma Violetta (that's my mom's mom) so young, and with my Grandpa Homer (that's my mom's dad). I only recall seeing one photo of Homer in my life, so it was nice to see all this things, and the pictures helped convey that celebration of life that funerals should be.

However, the actual service was a certifiable shitstorm of horrors. Excuse my hyperbole. First, they played the song "My Way" before the service started. Now, I will admit, I did not, or do I currently, know what kind of music Dave liked; however, I have to believe he did not like the version of the song the Irwin Funeral Home played. It wasn't Sinatra...it sounded more like a third-rate Elvis impersonator wringing that song's neck with both hands. It was almost comical. Just awful. Then, the pastor got up there. It was a man named Rev. Wisdom of all things. Essentially, Rev. Wisdom spoke about himself for the duration of the service. My uncle was an engineer for Norfolk & Southern railroads...so the dipshit reverend talked about how much he (the reverend) liked trains as a little boy. The reverend also talked briefly about Hurricane Katrina, himself a little more, and made an awkward stab at turning this service into an evangelical moment while talking about the importance of redemption (my uncle was not religious). In fact, he started off the services like a fucking chain e-mail. To paraphrase, "Dave was born in 1939, and the price of a gallon of gas was 15 cents. The price of a new car was 500 dollars. So, you can see things changed over his lifespan." That son-of-a-bitch ought to have charged for a fucking stamp, considering that he just mailed in that eulogy. It was like there was a Microsoft Word template for eulogies, and that asshole just plugged in "Dave Huffstutler" where there was an underlined blank, and changed the pronouns to match the correct sex.

And, you know, I've had two uncle's die in the past three years. The first eulogy was also fucked up by Irwin Chapel. I don't think it was the same asshole, but during Uncle Jim's service, the asshole talked about the Passion of the Christ. Jim was also non-religious. He had a passion for the Redskins, good cigars, gardening, woodworking, screwing with their neighbors and consuming pop books like air. No passion for Jesus as far as I could tell. I left that service just as steamed as I am right now about Dave's.

Of course the presiding pastors did not know my uncles, and no one in my family is a strong public speaker, so maybe I'm expecting too much from a funeral home. Maybe pastors with an agenda and an interest in my family's grief that starts and stops with the cashing of their check is exactly what funeral services are supposed to be. To leave that bitter pill of a life awkwardly summed up is somehow part of the griveing process in some cold scientific way. Sure, it's more personal that a dash between dates, but not much.

What I would like to have seen and heard is the sharing of stories or moments that we will always remember about my uncles. And with the stream of people that came into to visit my Uncle Dave, anyone of them could have taken a minute or two at the podium, and said one thing about Dave that they will always stick with them, even if it's just something vague about his kindness or that he was a good worker or a fair boss. Anything besides that cut & paste approach so I could see and learn more about him and the people that have some love or respect for the man. I only have one story about Dave, and it's about how stupid I was as a kid, and less about him. But out of the the hunderd plus that filed by his marble urn, I'm thinking at least 5 could have done something better to celebrate Dave's life better than Reverend Wisdom.


Viva el mustache.