my new nephew!

8 lbs, 1 oz and 20 1/4 inches long.

He is a happy camper!

I'll see him in two weeks. Let the spoiling begin.

Celebrations of Life

You know how people these days refer to funerals as "celebrations of life?" They say, "He would have wanted this service to be a celebration."

Really? Because I thought "celebration of life" is what all these birthday parties have been about. I can't think of a time when I've felt celebratory at a funeral. I mean, I get the idea that we are celebrating the good things in their life and the impact they had on others and that they are in Heaven now. But at the funeral, I tell you what, I'm still mad. I don't want to be told to skip over the grief stage and go straight to reflecting on the great things in their life. I want to sit there and be devastated. I'm not ready to be thankful for the time I did have with them. I'm not ready to be glad they're in Heaven. And Lord help you if you tell me that "everything happens for a reason."

I wonder if we try to convince ourselves that funerals are celebrations so that none of us has a hysterical breakdown in front of the gathered crowd. Because, after all, who has a breakdown at a celebration?

And I wonder when this phrasing got started, because I don't remember it being like this all my life until recently. I hope it is a trend that will go away soon.

Maybe we should have funerals in two stages. Stage One is a few days after death, when everyone gets to be grief-stricken. Stage Two is ten years later (by which point the widow can brush her teeth in the morning before she remembers how lonely she is) when everyone gets to celebrate the good things he did.