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I felt the same way when my sister, Angie, died. The pain of the loss, coupled with the need to plan the funeral, being surrounded by people wishing to pay their respects, and many other things, left me with a feeling that the whole thing was just too surreal. That was the word I used to describe it then and it feels the same way now.
I felt guilty about it at first. Here I was, supposed to be mourning the loss of my sister, and all I could make myself think about was how wierd the whole thing was. But then I realised that the reason it feilt wierd to me was because it *is* wierd. And I found myself preferring to think of the good things, and not focusing so much on the loss. That was a mistake too, but I won't really get into it. The key is finding balance, I think.
As far as viewings go, I was really upset with my parents when they decided on an open-casket viewing. I find it morbid and almost offensive to the deceased. The following sounds shallow, but hear me out. No one wants to be seen by anyone when they're looking their worst. No matter how much make-up is slathered on, you don't get much worse than dead. Angie always took care of her appearance, didn't leave the house unless she looked her best. And to display her that way was, as far as I'm concerned, an insult to her memory.
Yeah, death is wierd.
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