Respect
Everything was beautiful that night. There were beautiful flowers, singers, two preachers, an excellent message by one preacher on forgiveness and second chances; it was perfect… except for one thing. Rather, three things, in the form of immature women.
My children, ages ten and eleven, attended with me. I gave them the choice to stay home or accompany me, and they chose to accompany me. They even allowed me to choose their clothes, and my son wore a shirt he would never wear otherwise. During the entire service, they behaved perfectly. They never fidgeted, whispered, or even made their presence known. My children acted more like adults than these 40 and 50 something women.
This gentleman’s ex-wife and son sat in the first pew, my mom and my kids in the third, and in the second were four of my moms friends- directly in front of me. I get along with them all and they are very funny women. I have a good time when I’m around them. However, there is a time and a place for everything, and that night was not the time nor the place for laughter- at least not during the service.
I am a big believer in respect to all living beings and all property. I believe every human is entitled to respect from birth until their choices and actions warrant otherwise. I also believe death should be respected to the utmost- no matter how the person lived. That night, respect was left at the door.
For the first twenty minutes, three of the women hit each other, joked, albeit softly and played around, much like very young children during a Church service. Directly in front of them, the ex-wife is upset and crying. Directly behind them, I am upset and crying. Finally after twenty minutes, I was at my boiling point and, after catching the eye of the first one who happened to turn around, asked her was this fun for them. I had to ask her three times before she heard me, so low was my voice. She said no, and from then on, didn’t acknowledge me, nor did she joke with the other women. I felt like if they didn’t want to be there, they never should have showed up. We would have understood that they’d rather be elsewhere.
As soon as the service was over, my children and I left. In keeping with my demand for respect for such situations, it was best I left immediately and deal with it all later, and when we were away from the Church.
I think it’s fine in such a situation to laugh and joke and have a good time, but do so before and/or after the service, unless a service specifically dictates otherwise. It’s great to remember the good times as it helps with our grieving process, but there is a time and place for everything.
We have little regard or respect anymore in this world for any form of life and I believe it’s a bad sign of even worse times to come. If we cannot exercise self control and have respect for a life passed for less than an hour during a memorial service, what does that say about us as a people in general?
A little goes a long way, and that night, their few minutes of disrespect for this gentleman went a long way in the wrong direction.
On the other hand, a little bit of respect goes a long way in determining one’s character. If we all would exercise a little respect every day for all living beings, might not the world begin to become a better place for all?
LifeWriter is an author on Writing.Com/ Writing.Com/
which is a site for Writing.Com/ Creative Writing.
She writing.com/main/view_item/user_id/lifewriter writes frequently on issues of child abuse, mental health and animal issues.
