The passing of a family member is often not an easy life event. The emotional bond nurtured over the years as well as shared memories can easily overwhelm whatever rational reasoning and pragmatic preparation one put in place. I, for one, had a seemingly long runway in preparing for the mortal eventuality of my dad when he was given his initial diagnosis. At the same time, the practicalities of managing his health and the family perhaps afforded me a way to compartmentalise the emotional burden of it all. However, this only served to delay the emotional surge which surfaced in the terminal stage of his dying. This experience and process in which I spent his final nights at his bedside is private and especially personalised. Although the parties involved constitute a social dyad, due to my dad’s severely compromised speech ability at this point of time, the interaction between us primarily consisted of anticipating expectations and emotional assurance through the act of co-presence. The dying process carried with it a high degree of pain for the family at both an individual level and as a collective family unit while also evoking learned etiquette in performing care for my dad. The healthcare professionals, extended family, friends, and bystanders all expected such conduct of my family. While this form of conduct can be argued to be of a performative nature, it often is more “natural” in a sense due to its relative simplicity and highly personalised character (e.g., through specific ways of touch) despite that such conduct are typically derived from wider social norms.

The funeral wake, on the other hand, seemed more of a ceremonial nature. While it did not carry as much personalised meaning to me as compared to the time I spent with him as well as the final nights by his side, the social and cultural importance of the funeral wake cannot be denied. Extended family and friends needed it to grieve. Likewise, it can serve as a closure or part of a closure for my family and I. This approach towards closure was also supported by small nuggets of information about my dad, which would otherwise followed him to his grave, popped up in conversations with extended family and friends of my dad. However, not all interactions at the funeral wake were specifically about remembering my dad. There were also unsolicited opinions shared to my family pertaining to the conduct, content, and process of the religious rites performed or to be performed at the funeral wake. The motivations behind the sharing of such opinions in most cases were genuinely of well intentions for my family, albeit premised on superstitions. What is perhaps more interesting is that underlying these opinions were implicitly expressed expectations of a funeral proper. That these opinions differed from one another also indicated the variation in interpretations of the supposedly same religion. Given the monolithic assumptions of the said religion, opinions of the religious practices to be carried out were articulated as sacred and requiring strict adherence, if not for the purpose of ritualistic adherence to express reverence, then for the purpose of gaining divine blessings or merits. While the exhortation of these practices were intended and appeared to benefit my family, it also illustrated how a community of religious practitioners and followers checked and socialised its fellow members in an effort to sustain an authentic experience and practice of its religion despite observable variations in their understanding.

A cousin of mine remarked that funerals are for the living rather than the deceased. She was not off the mark. But, at the same time, it is about the social expectations of how funerals are held. Such expectations may not be well-aligned with the wishes of the deceased or the grieving family. Although contradicted views with the grieving family may not necessarily be outwardly contentious, they nonetheless have a certain degree of impact on the grieving family who tend to be already emotionally vulnerable and may wish to resist perceived disciplining on how a funeral is held for the deceased. Funerals therefore function to reinforce social expectations of how reverence for the deceased is performed and also to call upon a recommitment and adherence to practices and traditions of a religious community. My experience of conflict during the funeral wake, though arguably mild, indicated minor but existing tensions for me to adhere to social expectations, however fluid they may be. What was expected of me was the act of adherence without question. This, of course, elicited discomfort as my family and I struggled to inject a narrative to the funeral that was in essence meaningful to us while concurrently trying to determine which offered opinion is “correct”. It is to note that these are akin to tiny ripples on the water surface, gently nudging the course of the boat while the boatswain (i.e., my family) tries to chart its intended course. The effects and conflicting opinions were felt and managed, certain practices were followed while others either gently rejected or quietly ignored. Nevertheless, one cannot avoid the influence of social expectations, however benign, even for an event as personalised and private as the passing of a family member.