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Personal Narrative: The Truth In David Cunningham's Funeral

808 Words4 Pages

I looked down at my uncles dead still body and I did not recognize him. He laid there in a coffin dressed in a deep black suit so uncanny to his normal casual attire of navy blue sweatpants and a maroon sweater. Where was his black thinly rimmed glasses that hung off of his large nose? Why was his dark brown hair neatly slicked back off his forehead when it always messily hung over his hazel eyes? This was not David Cunningham. How could it be? I had just seen him a few days prior, we had shared dinner and snuck two dove dark chocolates out of the candy jar and watched the newest episodes of “So You Think You Can Dance?” Standing there with numb disbelief surging through me, firmly believing that my uncle had not passed away, which must have been a coping mechanism for the uncontainable pain that the truth caused me.

The truth that David Cunningham was dead and I was at his funeral.

A week before the funeral I got a call from my father telling me that my uncle had suddenly passed away. This shook me deeply. I was at work and I couldn’t contain …show more content…

A big white building with black carpet and musty off-white walls that had seen the faces of numerous patrons throughout the many years of funeral services. The air was thick with dust and their was an ominous presence that could be felt immediately upon entry to the room. It was almost as if the past ghosts of the previous funeral services clogged the air inside the room. Next to my uncle’s coffin were dozens of lovely bouquets, mementos, and photographs from a life of adventurous experiences. People came from all across Missouri, Nebraska, and New York to pay their respects. My direct family alone was 50 attendants. Our family was so vast that they had to seat us in an awkward side room that had us vertically parallel to the horizontal rows in an awkward

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