My dad died the day before Christmas. It was weird to attend his funeral on Tuesday since I haven't seen/talked to him in ~13 years. I didn't view the body, although as I was looking around for family, I happened to see him. I'm grateful it was only for one quick second, because I do NOT do well with dead bodies. My mom keeps telling me it's good that we (my sister and I) went to the funeral so we can have closure. Closure? I have NO closure. ZERO. ZILCH. NADA. If anything, it's made me think and think and think and think about it. Over and over again. The speakers seemed like they wanted to say more, but held back. My sister and I were never mentioned (except for the reading of the obituary) in which it stated that he was survived by his two daughters. No one came to tell us how much our dad loved us. Because... well, it wasn't true. He could care less. He left us and never looked back. I was glad no one came out and lied. I was half expecting a speaker to get all teary-eyed and say "And his pride and joy in life were his daughters... blah blah blah". So I was glad they didn't, because I would have been outraged. BUT it was also a big fat slap in the face that no one did. Because now I really know the truth. One of the speakers told how my dad (while in the hospital) asked said man, if he'd speak at his funeral. And keep it under 5 minutes. (hardy har har har har I can't stop laughing har har har har har...)
He knew he was going to die. Other people who spoke mentioned that my dad said he wasn't read to die yet. He still had things to do, that he needed to do. Then I find out he had said this MONTHS ago. Again, I'm so glad that one of those things he needed to do before dying was contacting his daughters. Oh, and meeting their spouses. AND his grandchildren. Oh well. Closure or not, I'm glad I went. It would have been one of those things I know I would have regretted forever. Or maybe not.