Comings and Goings
Apr. 13th, 2015 09:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
f4f3Remember I said that I'd bought five extra days of holiday this year? Well that's two of them I've used for funerals.
Uncle George was 65, and had a history of heart problems. And kidney, liver, circulation and lung problems.
So his death wasn't totally unexpected, but it was surprisingly sudden.
The funeral was on Friday, and I took my Dad and his wife up in the car. I'd originally intended to stay in Aberdeen on Friday night, and join in what I expected to be a boozy wake, full of family recriminations, more out of duty than pleasure. My dad surprised me, though, by saying that he wanted to come back down after the tea, so I cancelled my hotel room and was actually back in Glasgow not much after seven.
The funeral was... Well, all funerals are the same, all are different. The crematorium was much the same. The rapid-fire patter of a minister who'd never met George was depressingly similar. I'd never seen a floral tribute in the shape of a Rangers FC top before, though, or sung "The Old Rugged Cross" in a service. I had problems not using my pub singer voice, and I know that George would have apreciated that.
The family were well behaved at the tea, afterwards. I managed to get a photo of my dad with his two surviving brothers and sisters (there were originall seven in the family, one of whom died at 14 and another in her early 40's).
Something about the day gave me a migraine, which I battled through to get the folks back to Glasgow.
It wasn't a great day, and I was left feeling empty, that a family can come together in a far away place, and only carry cliches and common-places to swap with each other.
I need a wedding to go to, I think, or better yet a Christening.
Uncle George was 65, and had a history of heart problems. And kidney, liver, circulation and lung problems.
So his death wasn't totally unexpected, but it was surprisingly sudden.
The funeral was on Friday, and I took my Dad and his wife up in the car. I'd originally intended to stay in Aberdeen on Friday night, and join in what I expected to be a boozy wake, full of family recriminations, more out of duty than pleasure. My dad surprised me, though, by saying that he wanted to come back down after the tea, so I cancelled my hotel room and was actually back in Glasgow not much after seven.
The funeral was... Well, all funerals are the same, all are different. The crematorium was much the same. The rapid-fire patter of a minister who'd never met George was depressingly similar. I'd never seen a floral tribute in the shape of a Rangers FC top before, though, or sung "The Old Rugged Cross" in a service. I had problems not using my pub singer voice, and I know that George would have apreciated that.
The family were well behaved at the tea, afterwards. I managed to get a photo of my dad with his two surviving brothers and sisters (there were originall seven in the family, one of whom died at 14 and another in her early 40's).
Something about the day gave me a migraine, which I battled through to get the folks back to Glasgow.
It wasn't a great day, and I was left feeling empty, that a family can come together in a far away place, and only carry cliches and common-places to swap with each other.
I need a wedding to go to, I think, or better yet a Christening.
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Date: 2015-04-13 05:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-04-13 05:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-04-14 12:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-04-15 08:35 am (UTC)I've been to a few of those funerals, I think.