The man stood among the
mourners, looking somber and serious while dozens of black-clad
figures huddled beneath dozens of black umbrellas as a steady
downpour seemed to echo the sentiments of the occasion. The deceased was
being lowered into the ground. People were sad. Death had won
again, and the sky was shedding copious tears.
Unable to hear the words of the presiding
minister any longer, the man looked about,
a mourner-turned-sociologist. He felt like he was in a Hollywood
movie, which almost always depicted funerals as events that occurred under
glowering skies heavy with raindrops. Movie funerals, he realized,
were stereotypes, and he, for one, didn't intent to become a stereotype.
It was only raining, he reasoned, because people had expected it to rain.
Stereotypes can burrow into people's brains like worms into wood.
The man closed his umbrella and smiled.
The rain let up a bit, and a few more umbrellas were folded. The
rain slacked off even more, and that's when crowd mentality took
over. The umbrella mourners didn't want to look foolish, so they
followed the non-umbrella mourners in closing up their bumbershoots as
they stood reverently by the graveside. The dark clouds and rain had all
been a big misunderstanding.
The sun came out, and everyone smiled as the
minister finished ministering. Rain and death and dark clouds, the man
thought, were just a frame of mind.
"It doesn't have to rain
at funerals," he proclaimed.
The mourners apparently agreed. They all
shook the man's hand after offering their condolences to the family
members of the deceased.
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