That's exactly what I do.
As for the funeral /death thing I don't tend to get upset or anything, it's just one of those things that happens, funerals are very awkward though.
I've not experienced much death in my life, my great grandmother when I was about 9 but I wasn't allowed to go to the funeral incase I got upset. Even as a child that seemed ridiculous, I couldn't understand why they would think I'd get upset? I had no real connection with her(I'd only seen her a handful of times because we lived so far apart) so her death really didn't affect me other then being curious.
When my husband's grandmother died 5 years ago it didn't affect me either, we'd been visiting her every day for 2 years but again there was no connection for me, I didn't love her at all so didn't cry or get upset when she died. I actually thought it was a good thing because she wanted to die, she had a miserable life and missed her husband terribly(he'd died a few years before). She used to say alot that she wanted to die, so when she did my first thought was well at least she doesn't have to live a crappy existence anymore. Then I worried about having to console my husband in some way but he was pretty much the same as me and wasn't upset, just glad that she died sooner rather then later because of how much she hated living.
My own grandmother died just over a year ago, she had cancer which slowly killed her over a few months but because we live so far away and at the time my husband couldn't drive because he'd broken his collar bone so we only saw her once 6 weeks before she died. My mother did call and tell me it was a matter of days before she died but again I was stuck because my husband was due to have surgery the following week and I really didn't want to leave him. I toyed with going up on the train but in the end my mum told me not to because my grandmother looked so awful and wasn't aware of much which would only upset me (I hate it when people assume something will upset me). I was fine with that but then I thought maybe I should say goodbye in some way for her sake. So I wrote her a letter telling her how great she was and some of the lovely memories I had of our time together and my mum read it out to her before I rang and she said it was the best letter she'd ever had and I always was her favourite grandchild and then she starting rambling about something weird(the docs think she had the early signs of dementia too).
So she died, the funeral was arranged and it was 3 days after my husband had just had surgery and he was still really weak and needed looking after so I decided to go up for the funeral and come straight back again (6 hour trip in total). It was so awkward, everyone being overly nice to each other even the family members who hated each other. Random people coming up to me and hugging me asking if I was okay, I kept stepping away almost pushing them saying "I'm fine" and I kept getting that BS of "oh your being so brave". Truth is I wasn't upset, she was in a great deal of pain and it was over, I think I cried a couple of times before I went up for the funeral but that was more the shock of it I think. I don't see the point in dwelling on someone's death when you can think of all the happy times you had with them.
My dad kept pressuring me into comforting my mum, she was crying basically all day and he kept elbowing me and saying go and give her a hug, cue a horrified expression by me and some lame excuse about in a minute and I was just going to go look at the body one more time etc. That's one vivid memory I have, the body was some bizarre green colour, my husband's grandmother's body looked exactly the same as she always did she was just like a block of ice to the touch. It was weird how my grandmother looked greeny grey and for about an hour I was focused on that trying to figure out what caused it, was it poor care of the body, the fact my aunt would not peel herself off her body after she died(it took them 2 hours to get her to let go), did they botch the embalming or something, it was fascinating and I wanted to poke her skin to see if it felt the same but so many people were crying and stroking her hair and stuff that I thought I better not.
Then the actual funeral service was strange because it was in a little church that I used to go to as a child with my primary(elementary) school so that brought back flashes of harvest festivals and cans stacked in a big pyramid like a supermarket, awful music played on a cheap keyboard, the really visually disgusting combination of mustard floor with brown curtains and wood effect walls,it even smelt the same, it was like stepping back into my childhood. Then there was the music playing, as we walked in behind the coffin they were playing "You are not alone" by Michael Jackson and I had to stifle a laugh as I thought about how funny it would be if they played "Bad" or "Thriller" and then my mind went through the whole thriller video and imagined my grandmother getting out of the coffin and dancing. By the time I snapped back into reality they were just starting to sing songs and I was still sat down when everyone was standing, I grabbed the little leaflet they made and mentally shouted "WTF?" apparently they were my grandmother's favourite hymns...first I heard because she was not religious at all, I think she had a church service just because that was the done thing. Then I had a really hard time because 40 people who can't sing, singing a really awful hymn....I thought my ears were going to bleed it hurt so much. Afterwards they were all going to the pub and I said I had to go to get back(truth is I was wiped out and on the verge of overload). My uncle really angered me because he asked why my husband hadn't come and was he just sat at home (the tone implied that he just couldn't be bothered) so I snapped and said "Oh sorry he couldn't make it but you know he's just got out of hospital and can barely move he's in so much pain but thanks for asking how he is!" and then I mumbled alot of obscene language under my breath as I walked off.
The only death that has ever affected me is my childhood dog dying, I got her when I was 13 and she died in November(I had to leave her behind with my mum when I moved). Again I was completely fine because she had been ill for a few weeks and I thought it was good she was out of her misery. When my mum called me up crying because she didn't know what to do her legs had collapsed and she was being sick and she couldn't afford a vet. So I told her I'd pay, whatever treatment she needed just get it done and I'd pay.
So I waited and waited and about 3 hours later she calls me up hysterically crying she couldn't even speak and next thing I know the receptionist at the vet's takes the phone and tells me that they had to put the dog down and the bill was ?79.50, my first reaction was to ask why it cost so much but then I was able to put a lid on that as I knew that wasn't acceptable to ask right now so I just paid using my card over the phone and asked the woman to tell my mother to call me when she was calmer. Next day when she was calmer she explained what happened, the vet had felt the dog's stomache and there was a lump in there, the vet explained they'd need to run tests, take some blood etc etc but with her being so old and ill they didn't think there would be much in the way of treatment, so she had opted for putting her to sleep.
After I finished talking to her I became so angry that she'd had her put to sleep, hadn't even tried treatment first, I'd specifically told her whatever needed to be done do it and I'd pay, she'd just had it done without even asking me. Then it got worse next time I spoke to her she told me that she couldn't even be in the room when they did it so she said goodbye and left her and they came out and told her when she was gone, I had to put the phone down I was so angry. It wasn't until the next morning when I was in the shower that I started crying and I was filled with rage and guilt and I ended up cutting myself because I couldn't handle it all. I was so angry that she'd just left her, my poor dog's last memory would have been one of abandonment and fear, she would have been so terrified as she hated the vets and to be left....I don't think I'll ever forgive my mother for that, the least she could have done is comforted her in those last few minutes.
Animal deaths definitely affect me more then human deaths, I can't stand to see / hear about animals suffering.
