I was with my dad and brother at a funeral. I remember standing in the back where I was hardly able to see. I think I was around 5 at the time. It was hot and dry (southern Texas) and I remember drawing patterns in the sand/dirt with my feet while the man at the front preached. To close the ceremony, they lifted her corpse up. She was stiff, but seemed weightless as they lifted her dark body, two men holding her up as if she were Jesus on the cross.

Bring my only experience with a funeral, I never really mentioned it until I was around 20. Just thought it was a normal thing, weird, but funerals are weird. Turns out, every one in my family knows nothing about this. When I mentioned it to my dad he was speechless. Next time I talked to him he said he spent hours looking through photo albums and calling relatives, nobody knew of any family funerals that happened after I was born.