So I went to my second funeral here in Switzerland today. It wasn't as much a funeral, it was a ceremony by the grave where the urn was lowered into the ground. People gathered, the priest was talking, there were flowers and it wasn't too sad. Maybe because I kept the distance a bit, since I wasn't near family, and that I have a bit of a problem with death. Well, who doesn't? But I have especially bad memories from death, funerals and saying goodbye.
We declined going to the church and the dinner afterwards, felt it was too much, since I'm an atheist, and that god thingie doesn't do it for me, but it felt good to have been there. We left a card, and my friend spoke to the brother, and so we made our presence known. Which was good, since nobody else knew who we were.
There were many people there. She lived alone like me, had four cats, and a quite active social life. And she was appreciated. A friend of hers held a speech by the grave, talking about a bird with a broken wing, who managed to get away from a cat, flying up to sit on top of a tree, saving her life for a little while, and enjoying, but at the same time knowing the cat would still get her eventually.
A beautiful analogy for somebody who truly loved animals. She will be missed.
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