[berettafan]

my mother and I attended my estranged fathers funeral.

I last saw/spoke to him around the time I was in kindergarten. with one exception. when I was graduating from high school I looked his number up and called him. he first asked why I was calling then proceeded to spend 15 minutes telling me how great his two kids (not me) are and how he had just built a computer with his son. that was it. no 'my god how have you been' or 'lets get together'. hadn't talked to the man since I was kindergarten aged.

so, I moved on.

not quite 10 years later a neighbor knocked on our door to tell me my father had died. neighbor knew my last name and assumed I must be related to the woman she worked with who's brother in law had just died. when she asked her coworker if she was related to me the woman, whom I've never met, admitted she was my aunt and her husband was my fathers brother. so this neighbor decides she should let me know. these people lived a bike ride away from me for years and never felt moved to contact me.

my mother and I attended the funeral. it was a surreal experience walking into a room full of people I've never met yet many of whom seemed to know who I was. I behaved as SC_rufctr suggested. Listened to how he was a great family man who gave so much of his time to his kids. Listened to how his kids will miss him so much. Listened to his widow, who remembered me visiting as a little boy, tell me how he never forgot me and always knew where I was.

It was insulting to say the least. But again, as SC_Ruf and others have suggested you go not for the departed (man I love that movie) but for those left behind.