I attended a celebration of life yesterday, for a samba sister of mine. She died of brain cancer, much much too soon, at age 60.
On the one hand, it was a lovely service. She was a vibrant, positive force of life and it was lovely to see her celebrated.
On the other hand, fuck cancer.
My samba group did a short piece. It was a beautiful, gentle dance, an Ijexa which tends to be very graceful and stately (as opposed to the Rio, which is the most known of Brazilian samba, very fast and all hips). The song, from what I understand is basically “calling the fishermen home from the sea”. I was grateful that my group allowed me to dance, since I had missed rehearsals due to life conflicts.
On the other hand, someone questioned whether I ‘felt confident’ enough to perform this simple piece - I’ve been dancing for over 10 years - and no one questioned the dizty dancer who can barely tell her right foot from her left. Argh. Trying to let that go.
The thing that upset me the most? Was the Master of Ceremonies, who straight out said he wasn’t the deceased’s pastor, but a friend and neighbor. He gave a sermon at the end that really bothered me: I have no idea if or how religious my samba sister was, but the fact that her pastor wasn’t officiating tells me she probably wasn’t extremely religious - and yet he had to do this whole “Jesus” talk. And then made sure to mention his son, daughter in law and grandson by name.... while not even knowing the ages of her grandchildren, nor mentioning them by name at all (he may have mentioned her sons, at the beginning, I don’t recall). For gods sake, dude, this funeral isn’t about you.
Anyway, I needed to vent. I am still rather down about it. It makes me wonder if people will say or think such nice things about me when I drop dead. I need to try to focus on being more positive, take that part of her with me.
Sorry to be a downer today!