Situations where you wish you have that Star Trek communicator on your breast so you can just press it and whisper "Scotty, beam me up," so that you are whisked away to the USS Enterprise, or to any hell-hole, for that matter, aside from that you find yourself in?
I felt that way a few years ago when I traveled to another city I have not been to for so long to attend the burial of my grandmother.
I was told the requiem was at one in the afternoon; and since I was already late, I did not bother going to my uncle's house where the wake was, and just proceeded straight to the church.
When I arrived, a huge crowd was already there, which suited me fine because I was inconspicuous among the throng as I find my way to where my immediate relatives were.
I saw people in white gathered around a coffin near the altar, so I slowly made a beeline towards them. I could not immediately see my parents, but I told myself that maybe they were just hidden among those folks.
Halfway through my slow trek, I noticed a relative; so, out of courtesy, I remarked to him that a lot of people were saying their last farewells.
"This is not yet it, " he said.
Thinking that what he meant was that more were still coming, including my parents who were not yet around, I proceeded to the front and elbowed my way through so I can take a last glimpse of my grandmother, whom I did not see for years until her death.
The people in white grudgingly gave ground and parted for me. So, trying hard not to let my emotion overcome me, I gazed into the glass cover, only to take a step back and gasp in surprise, momentarily paralyzed and not believing what I saw.
It was not my grandmother. The body was not even female but that of a thin, gaunt man. I attended the wrong funeral.
The people in white clearly saw my stunned expression, but no one recovered from their confusion quick enough to confront me before I snapped out of the shock and made a mad dash out of the church, not caring about the small ruckus that resulted.
Panting and shaking outside the church, dazed as moments ago I was in the cusp of crying my heart out, I realized that what my relative meant is that it was not yet the mass for my grandmother and that her cortege was still on its way.
It turned out the mass was reset to the next hour because that for the gaunt man got reserved first; and nobody bothered telling me.
Until now, my mother does not know why I looked pallid when she saw me sipping a Coke to calm my nerves moments after that mortifying episode.
Lesson learned: pay attention to detail.
A well-meaning woman who misread a Facebook post of a friend, who said she was sad because her very sick mother was "passing through" a difficult stage of her life, for sure learned the same lesson as well.
After reading the friend's lament, the woman wasted no time in expressing her condolences for the loved one who "passed away." So earnest she was in her empathy that she also told an officemate, who likewise published a short note on her sorrow over the supposed demise of the friend's mother. That started an outpouring of sympathy from the world.
The friend, after learning of what happened, could only cry in horror, torn between lashing out in anger for the carelessness or being polite enough to respect the intention and just let the matter pass.
The condolence messages have since been removed.
The friend's mother is still alive, but I am sure, like when I was in the wrong funeral, the well-meaning woman died of embarrassment that day.
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