I recently had the experience of attending my funeral, via the imagination of my granddaughters. It was one of those experiences you could not think up or plan. The two masterminds were ages 8 and 6.
We built a fort in their basement with blankets, cushions, pillows, etc. I was the bad guy they had trapped inside. When the fort collapsed on me, one of them said they needed to have a funeral for me. In enacting the funeral I was transformed from the bad guy to their real grandfather.
The younger of the two, Ava, went first and said that I was "the kindest and nicest man" she had ever known, and how sorry she was that I was dead. That was very very nice to hear.
The older, Lillian, began to recite the act of contrition, which she is learning for her first confession next Spring. She missed a few pieces of it, but basically she said something like this,
"I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. Our Savior Jesus Christ suffered and died for us. In his name, my God, have mercy"
I thought it was rather fitting, and I think she changed a word or to so that it would sound like it was coming from me. But it was sweet and true. Her way of voicing the most serious thing could think of at a very serious, though make-believe, event.
Most of us will attend our own funerals, at least in body. This "rehearsal" was short and to the point and was just about as good as the one that awaits me down the road. I hope they both speak when the time comes.
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