So, it was my dad’s funeral yesterday (wednesday), and bizarrely it was quite good. I had a silly grin as we came up the drive in the hearse-type thing because I could see all the people that had turned up..people I didn’t expect. Its nice to know that he made an impression on the people he met while he was alive.

The service itself was lovely, or at least as lovely as these things ever are. The ‘minister’ (for want of a better word) was excellent. Laura and I had asked not to make it a religious service, because we both feel that it would seem a bit hypocritical when Dad hadnt been near a church for 30 years. I read a short little poem, which was strangely gratifying. It was the one that starts “Do not stand at my grave and weep..” Nice, it is. And Laura (my sister, for those of you who weren’t sure) read a short eulogy that she’d written herself, which was great.

Anyway, that went as well as you’d expect. Incidentally…are coffins always that heavy? I dont mean to be so light-hearted about this, but I nearly did my back in.

After that we went back to the wake. (why is it called a wake, it where you go to wait just in case the deceased changes his mind and wakes up?) I did my mingling thing, and I may say so self, played the part of host quite well. Furthermore, I looked bloody good
It was part of my plan to go and have a few drinks in the next town. But I went home to get some more money, and promptly fell asleep. I think it must have been the effects of the day finally taking hold of me.

Well, it was good that we got to give Dad a good send-off. He’d have been glad that so many people were there, I know it.