30 Funeral Moments That Became Unforgettable For All The Wrong Reasons

Only somewhat inappropriate, but certainly the funniest thing...

It was a funeral for an uncle I was very distantly related to, and (this is happening in Greece, in the summer), the church is very full and incredibly hot, you can smell the sweat, there's incense, the air isn't circulating, and the priest is just going on and on - I don't think I can describe how grim the situation was. Not totally unexpectedly therefore, just as the priest is getting to something particularly emotional, a man, an old colleague standing near the back, faints - he's completely out. Now, this guy was very tall and rather broad, so not only was it a miracle that he didn't take out the two tiny old ladies right in front of him, he was also really difficult to carry outside to get some air!

Somebody has the brilliant idea that the pallbearers (those people who carry the casket) should carry him, since they've practiced it and are reasonably strong. So everybody squeezes a bit tighter (nobody wants to leave the church, things just got interesting) to let them through. They pick him up, three on one side and three on the other, i.e. more or less as they would the casket, and start carrying him towards the door. Suddenly, this guy wakes up, turns his head several times, grasps what's going on and who's carrying him faster than anybody can respond, and immediately starts yelling "I'M ALIVE! I'M ALIVE! I'M ALIVEEEEEE!" At which point, one of the pallbearers laughs so hard that he drops what was thankfully a leg, and the others struggle to put him down in what is now a church absolutely exploding with laughter. The whole situation went on for a good fifteen minutes in which this guy walked outside and the priest tried to resume the service, but there absolutely continued to be giggles throughout - I, being a teenager at the time, also couldn't possibly hold it back every time I thought of this guy yelling he's alive!

Nobody was even particularly upset because the uncle we were burying was always laughing and joking around, so it somehow felt appropriate that we had a great laugh at his funeral.

My grandmother's funeral was on her birthday. I purchased "happy birthday" balloons because it was what she would have wanted. I was immediately reprimanded by my mother when I arrived as she forgot it was her birthday. But everyone that knew the family knew that she would have loved it, even my grandfather laughed when I walked in with them.

An estranged uncle driving past my grandmother's funeral playing Another One Bites the Dust.

My father’s funeral.

After the service and the reception after, my mother, brother, and sister headed back to our family home. A bunch of my father’s siblings and their family were also staying at the house with us. We got home a few minutes before everyone else.

I was sitting at a table in the living room when I could see their cars come down the driveway. They all got out and were hugging and seemingly congratulating each other. The reception after the service was beautifully put together, and was actually a fun time. A fitting send off for my father. So I assumed they were still just having fun from that. Until they came inside.

They all came in together very quickly, and quietly. They came up to me and my older brother sitting at the table, and kind of crowded around like a bunch of kids, about to see if they could have a cookie before dinner. My aunt Barbara smugly stood at the front and asked, “so when are we going to be doing the reading of the will to see what was left to us all?”

My brother and I just looked at each other for a few moments before we turned to them to say, “are you kidding? Reading of the will? Like a soap opera? There is no reading of the will. Everything that belonged to my father now just belongs to my mother!”

The look of defeat, but not shame, was disgustingly transparent. They were supposed to stay another few nights. They packed up and left that afternoon.

At my grandfather's funeral, the stand-in, curmudgeonly pastor kept calling my grandfather by the wrong name.

Pastor: we are here to memorialize the life of John Smith.

Pastor: John Smith lived a good life. I had never personally met John Smith, but
My Spouse Loudly: Well, I've never met John Smith either. His name was Bob White.

Everyone attending burst out laughing.

We went out to dinner after my dad’s funeral. I had snagged one of his hoodies from his closet, and I was wearing it. My brother noticed and kinda sarcastically said, “Hey. Nice jacket.”

I said, “Thanks. I got it off a dead guy.”.

My grandpa's phone going off in the middle of the eulogy and his ringtone was "Staying Alive" by the BeeGees.

We had a snowball fight outside the parlor of my pop pops funeral...

Pop pop would have approved.
The non-family mourners seemed horrified.

At cremation, someone's cellphone ringed playing "girl on fire" took a good 15 seconds to shut off.

My own kids. Boys ages 10 and 8. At their great-grandfathers wake, they got a chair and moved it to the casket and started making his mouth into smiley face. Laughing the whole time. When me and their grandfather (my father in law) saw it, I immediately pulled them away and told them they shouldn't do that, grandpa laughed and said "it's fine, he would have really loved that they did that". We later found out that the great grandfather had asked the funeral home ahead of time to put a sign in his hand that said "thanks for coming" but they refused!

The lady who convinced my mother to ditch chemo and use essential oils, handed put biz cards at her funeral.

The priest *repeatedly* refered to my grandmother by the wrong name!!! After the 4th or 5th time my Aunt got up and and quietly told him the correct name. My grandmother had attended church weekly for decades. There was no reason for the priest to not know his parishioner. Needless to say we did not pay his fee.

My best friend died last year from a random heart failure at 25.

The pastor at the funeral went on for about 10 minutes about how we had all been responsible for him [passing] because we were sinners and that we should join his church to make amends. He didn't know any of us. It was very uncomfortable.

I'm a funeral director. This happened.

We brought a man into our care who had died of AIDS complications in 1999 or so. His parents were immigrants from Eastern Europe who were very conservative and had not known their son was gay. He had moved to Milwaukee from their little town in the sticks about ten years earlier. Cancer was what his mom and dad were told. His friends in Milwaukee had their own services that the parents didn't attend, and I worked with the parents on a Mass of Christian Burial and interment in his hometown. The decedent's brother and sister met with the priest and asked him not to mention their brother's "lifestyle" during his homily, and explained why. He agreed.

So the Mass starts, and the normal rituals get going, and then it's time for the priest to speak at length. A traditional Catholic homily in a conservative church like that one isn't a normal eulogy. It's purpose is to "bring glory to the Father," and if the deceased is spoken of at all it is about his or her devotion to God and how that was evident from earthly actions. The priest got to a certain point in his pretty much boilerplate remarks, and then took an audible breath and told everyone that he was feeling moved by the Holy Spirit to speak freely. He spoke about decisions that people make that are contrary to God's Plan, and how that inevitably results in corruption, and you can probably guess the rest of it. He never actually mentioned AIDS or sexuality, but it was pretty much right there if you read even a little bit between the lines.

He did not go in procession to the cemetery, rather went in his own car and was waiting for us when we all pulled up. I don't think I had even turned off the engine to the hearse when the brother got out of his car, rushed to the front of the line of cars, and got in the priest's face, who then drove away without performing the burial rites. I was told later that the brother went with, "How dare you?" and the priest countered with, "I follow the Spirit. I had no choice." Honestly surprised the brother didn't lay him out.

There are some things that happen at work that you just wish were happening on your very last day on the job.

A marriage proposal to the recently widowed. She accepted.
I know this is a thing in some families where if a guy dies, a single, male, relative, of the deceased, will end up marrying the widow. Why this is a thing, I dunno but know it is. So, the divorced brother proposed to his deceased, brother's wife and she said yes. I doubt there was any cheating going on there. The two are still happily married as well.

At my grandpa's funeral in 2006 a random drunk woman that no one in our family knew stumbled in and started singing show tunes, then crying til she was escorted out.

At an open casket wake, a friend of the deceased attempted to give her a drink of single malt whiskey. She ended up being forcibly removed as she wouldn't stop and spilled a lot of the alcohol in the casket. It was as horrible and inappropriate as it was heartbreaking - for everyone.

Someone trying to "quietly" open a can while they were doing the closing prayer.

At my cousins funeral, one of my relatives literally tried jumping in the casket with him. Really traumatizing experience I might add.

At my grandma's funeral. There was a woman that had a really bad relationship with my grandma, but one of my aunts invited her to the funeral.

She started receiving people as if she was a family member and tried to put herself at the center of everything.