It is after all in bad taste to speak ill of the dead

Here I am
sipping coffee at a café after having attended my 17th funeral in the short 24 years of my life.
Considering three of the funerals I attended were for 16 year olds,
I guess my life has been long.

And I guess compared to other lives, 17 deaths is nothing.
Here
in beautiful quiet Norway, it´s quite a lot.

I feel like I´ve been to my share of funerals.
But this time I knew the lyrics to the songs without looking in the pamphlet
and was aware that the songs are common for funerals.

Despite the obvious sadness of it.
It really is a nice experience.
I think I actually like attending funerals.

The thing is it´s kind of beautiful.
Different stories, love that is shown, the humor that surfaces often.

When we buried my dad´s half-brother I was surprised to hear of their childhood together and the good times they had.
Funerals seem to shed a positive light on the dead person.

Had I known that when I wrote this text, I would be attending my grandmothers funeral just a few weeks later, I don´t think I would have written that I like funerals.
It was a beautiful funeral, but I´m so sad.

This is what I tried telling all my ex´s.
One day you will lose everyone.