Today is a free writing day. Write at least four-hundred words, and once you start typing, don’t stop. No self-editing, no trash-talking, and no second guessing: just go. Bonus points if you tackle an idea you’ve been playing with but think is too silly to post about.
As I don’t have anything on the back burner, I thought I would just note down my thoughts on attending today what has to be the saddest funeral, not the sadness born of losing a loved one, I have ever had the misfortune to attend. We received the phone call just two evenings ago; hubby’s uncle had passed away and was to be buried on Friday morning at nine am. Because of the distance, we had to travel in and around the morning peak time, so would have to leave home at seven thirty. Ok, for family we can do this, and we did, arriving at our destination with fifteen minutes to spare. I had met this uncle on a few occasions over the years at different family gatherings, though never having spent a great deal of time chatting with him, his wife being my Mum-in-law’s best friend was the one I was naturally drawn to at get-togethers.
Looking around we noticed that there were very few cars in the lot, assuming others must have parked around the back until we spotted my sister-in-law driving up, while waiting for her to park my other sister-in-law and her hubby pulled into a spot. Entering the funeral parlour together, we were greeted by Hubby’s Aunty, his cousin and his wife, their four adult children, partners and grandchildren, along with a handful of non-family mourners.
It somehow seemed wrong to me, twenty five adults present to say goodbye, this was a man, who had raised a family and worked hard for sixty odd years, only to hear within a short time of arrival that he had not been very popular at the end of his life.
The service was over within about twenty minutes at the most, Frank Sinatra’s recording of I did it my way, was playing as we entered the chapel, after being seated, we were welcomed by the officiator, who then gave a short eulogy on behalf of the family, in this he mentioned that the deceased, was a hard working family man, a keen golfer, and dedicated football supporter, albeit not a people person he was respected by all who knew him. It was then time for those that wanted to, to light a candle for uncle; this offer was taken up by about half the gathering, after which to the strains of uncle’s football-club theme song the curtain closed in front of the coffin.
Gathering afterwards at the family home for refreshments, we learned uncle really was not a very social person or even a friendly one, supposedly being bought up by a very stern father himself, without having ever experiencing family warmth, had none to share with his own family as they were growing up. In his advancing years, he had become an uncooperative, bitter and demanding person, hence the playing of the Sinatra song at the service
I cannot help thinking how sad, ninety six years old and not one person with a good word to say for him at his funeral