I am honestly obsessed with the level of main character syndrome some people can achieve during a somber occasion for reflection. Imagine standing at the back of a wake and watching a relative treat a burial like it is a convenient stage for their personal singing career. It is the peak of accidental awkwardness. We see these clueless clergy moments where a pastor gives a generic medical tangent instead of a personal eulogy, or a vicar who consistently gets the deceased person’s nickname completely wrong. It is like they are playing a very dark game of Mad Libs with people’s lives. And the relatives are not much better. We all have that one family member who views a burial as the perfect time to air a personal grievance or compliment a corpse in a way that makes everyone else want to faint. These social blunders are legendary treasures of the bored and the bereaved. I especially love the old Irish women who can complain about hospital cigarette policies while standing over a casket. It is a level of bluntness that I can only hope to achieve by the time I am eighty. We are out here witnessing a total breakdown of grief and common sense where a shocking condolence phrase becomes the highlight of the service.

The cringe worthy interaction where an old woman asks a grieving son how his late father is doing is probably my favorite social failure. It is a level of disconnect from reality that is almost impressive. These funeral fails are a reminder that even at our most vulnerable, we are still capable of making things weird for everyone involved. Whether it is a bizarre tractor related eulogy or a dark joke made while lowering a casket, these stories prove that the hush memo is rarely followed. We laugh at the blunt and insensitive remarks because if we did not, we would just be staring into the urn in silence. It is a different kind of digital car crash that makes you want to move to a new country and change your name. I find it deeply comforting to know that I am not the only one who has ever felt like a shocked bystander at a wake. I hope these stories make you feel better about your own awkward family dynamics next time you are forced to wear black and stand in a room full of crying strangers. Stay taciturn, or don’t, I guess. It is clearly not working for these people anyway.