My funeral essay 400 words long

In an instant, another life said goodbye to the earthly world, or maybe it was a relief.

I learned of this news the day after my grandmother's death, and I was not too surprised, nor too much sadness or perhaps not a little sadness, because my grandmother is very strange to me, just a generation of "grandma and grandchildren," just the name.

Parents let me off the class as soon as possible to rush home, I know, in fact, they are just doing the appearance of filial piety, are a form. After all, our family is to hold "death is a new life" such an attitude, of course, this is also an excuse, to say directly that after the death of a cut. However, the deceased in the other world is not the same hope?

The steps of the funeral are set in stone, and so are the rules. I'm not sure if you're going to be able to get a good deal on the way to the next level, but I'm sure you'll be able to get a good deal on the way to the next level, and I'm sure you'll be able to get a good deal on the way to the next level, and I'm sure you'll be able to get a good deal on the way to the next level. This is the second time such a white cloth appeared on my left hand, the first time was the death of my grandfather.

Dinner was vegetarian and limited in portion size, they said, as a sign of respect for the dead. A few minutes later, the band came. A few minutes later, the blah blah blah musical evening began. A few minutes later, the band asked us to stand in front of Grandma's body and observe 3 minutes of silence. Because of the great acoustics the band brought in, the loudness, and the fact that I was reminded of someone at the time, I actually wanted to laugh in front of the casket. The process of holding back was painful, but I could clearly feel my sister's body pumping livestock, and I had even cried out. At that time I had thought of holding back some tears out, but that was too hypocritical, even if I have no feelings for my grandmother, but at least on this occasion the feelings must be the most real. The silence was closed, and I felt vaguely guilty, or rather guilty, because I had isolated my grandmother as a stranger, and without her there would be no father and no me. So there is still gratitude to be felt.

The next two hours were business time for the band, and after two or three songs in a very bad voice and with very poor technique, it was time for a song. I said to my sister, "Instead of letting the bands sing, we should sing by ourselves." So we did sing by ourselves, but only 2 songs, because we realized later that it costs money to sing by yourself with accompaniment. And it was $10 per song. I gave the band guys a hard stare and murmured, "That's how you honor the dead!" Then I had a couple of adults order 2 songs each, all super high pitched. I did it simply to torment them; I was not a good customer for them, and they were not good businessmen. It's amazing that pop songs are sung in this atmosphere. That's what people do nowadays, throw parties at funerals, make jokes about the hurt of the deceased's family, and then pretend to mourn.