You tell me. Where else am I going to print this other than an anonymous blog? The church newsletter?
It’s clear that some young women have not attended many funerals. They know they’re supposed to wear black, but all they have are the little party dresses that show a lot of leg and cleavage.
It must be especially difficult when they get to the cemetery. Walking on the ground in the required high heels is difficult. And if the wind kicks up, it’s quite a struggle to keep that light fabric in place. They’re probably not comforted by the eloquent words I’m uttering over the dead.
You understand, I’m not complaining. It certainly makes the day less of a drag.
But it’s not written in stone that one must wear black at a funeral. Most of us just try to wear something nice to show respect. In my part of the world, it’s not uncommon for the men to wear their clean pair of jeans, along with polished boots, a western shirt, and a black hat—often the deceased is dressed the same way.
Some women wear nice dresses and others wear dress jeans—and they don’t have to be black. At one funeral, all the women wore red dresses because the deceased loved that color.
When I die, I won’t care what they wear to the funeral. Hey, I’ll be glad someone actually shows up.