Funeral.

Was certainly the hottest church I’ve been to ever. FACT. Not a dubious fact if the day either, remember them loyal readers? A friends Mum passed away recently, a really good lady. One of the good people, smiling, cheeky and always up for a laugh, whenever I’d met her anyway. I didn’t know her well, and met her a handful of times but you could see she’d done a grand job bringing up her boys, and a grand job being a grandmother to her boys’ kids.

Mate stood up in the hot church and Eulogised, when you’ve got 10 minutes, what do you say? What don’t you say? It’s a tough gig, the toughest of your life I think. And he made her proud, I’d say. There were hymns, there were prayers people fanned themselves and all the while the muted sun illuminated the stained glass behind the altar. As the Beatles sung “Here comes the Sun” the congregation assembled outside the rural church, Jan’s sons inwardly glowing with a humble pride in doing what was right for their Ma.

Sadly funerals are happening in my life more often, I only expect this to accelerate, but hopefully not for a while yet.

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