“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(This morning I was dressed to go to Joe Bumbalo’s funeral by 9:15. I didn’t feel like hanging around the house until 9:45 — the service was at 10:00 — so I told Margaret Bumbalo I’d run down to the hospital to see Jane first, then walk over. Jane was better, surprised to see me, trying to decide whether to go to hydro [she didn’t].

(I found the whole funeral experience quite interesting, though I understood little of what was going on. A priest gave a short talk at the funeral home, leading it off, maybe for shock value, by telling us that sooner or later every one of us would experience the same thing Joe Bumbalo had. The room was very impressive, with its beamed ceiling. I thought the timeless quality, of light and so forth, inside the large room where the casket lay was more than a little symbolic in itself, isolated as the room was from the apparent time of day, night, or season.

(The booklet explains much — all of the multitude of sittings and standings and kneelings that we went through in the pews; the gifts carried to the altar by the Bumbalo grandchildren; the hymns we listened to; the selections from the Bible read by the various priests; the responses we gave to the appropriate passages recited by the head priest, who read from the Gospel of John and other Biblical passages.

(I didn’t stay for the lowering of the casket. I don’t know whether the immediate family did or not. John Bumbalo had made arrangements for someone to give me a ride back to the hospital, where my car was. Jane and I went over the booklet of burial rites after lunch. I felt peaceful and tired, and put off starting these notes for a long time.