Well today was a first. I was invited to a potluck funeral at a rather, very Main Line church.

Yes for real.

I am still sitting here gob smacked. Another friend who got the email said they literally sat there reading the impersonal email and felt their eyebrows raised and not going down. Another friend who got forwarded the email is still so angry, I am not sure the top of her head has returned to just above her forehead yet.

The email was completely impersonal. No emotion, it was like a perfunctory to do list….only it’s this email from one of the kids and it is his freaking mother. He is older than I am, and not destitute. She wasn’t destitute. He’s being left a nice inheritance. She adored him. Literally all she ever wanted was for him to spend time with her. And him? Emotionally and deliberately physically remote, yes?

Oh and the stooge getting stuck helping him with a headcount? Wasn’t even really a friend of his late mother. Like quite literally I do not know where she came from. Just a random task rabbit I suppose?

The magic list is amusing. Misspelled family names and mispelled names of generational family friends. And so many people who really weren’t friends. It’s a highways and byways list.

Now just for the humor of it, I went back to the woman’s death instructions as I have a copy. This woman was fairly organized and she began telling those of us who really knew her about her last wishes a few years ago. Even where to find her instructions in the house in case they got lost. Trust me there was never, ever a mention of a POTLUCK. There was a mention of she wanted lots of sunflowers at the church. We’ll see if that happens.

The email was so dear occupant. But that is this guy’s personality I suppose? I actually met the son before I met his mother. Back then he was dating someone I knew a bit. Didn’t care for him. Personality of a piece of cardboard.

Also never cared for the way he treated his mother. He was in my opinion, a prize shit most of the time. He phoned in his relationship, even as she lay dying. And this woman? Like a faithful old dog sitting by the door waiting for the one who left them to come home. Yes that is my opinion, I am not alone in that.

This email had no emotion, no sign of life. Not a kind word about his late mother. Nada. Junk email solicitations have more feeling.

And it was who is coming, and wow have you ever been required to RSVP for a freaking funeral? Yeah that was a first too. Is he selling tickets or something? Should we bring our garden spades as well to help dig the grave?

You don’t have to break the bank for a funeral, but when the departed has made arrangements including financial, what is the big deal? Is that cheap or emotionally stunted? Or both?

This will be a funeral on the smaller side. What would be so difficult about a few sandwich trays? Cookies? Cheese and fruit? Tea? Water? Coffee? Hell you can even get those platters made up at the grocery store, and buy the rest of it. It’s not that hard and certainly less gauche then telling people to essentially brown bag the funeral and reception. Ok yes, I also found it rude. And tacky. And appalling.

But mostly I found it utterly disrespectful to a woman who gave him life that maybe was messy at times, but can we say she did her best? She didn’t grow up or have children in a time that was necessarily kind to women.

I am not going. I had decided this before the dear occupant potluck funeral e-mail, and I knew the decision then was right. I know where she will rest, and I will pay respects privately. But that guy? Hope he chokes on his inheritance.

Opinions make the world go round. Rant over.