Saturday, 14 June 2008

I Could Blog About this ...

I could blog about this I think numerous times a week. I'm not short of ideas. I'm not short of daft or peculiar observations on life, the universe and everything. But I have been short of time. A friend's husband has now returned to full health and driving duties after a pacemaker was fitted. So I am now relieved of taxi duties. Unfortunately a couple of friends have died. I have attended one funeral. Another one to go on Monday. After that I hope to have finished with my share of sadness and upset for 2008. I now want to cash in my 'happiness' voucher' for a bit of daft frivolity.
Funerals aren't what they used to be. Well not in Sidford they aren't. Do all funeral directors now arrange for the coffin to be carried into church on a squeaky wheeled trellised trolley? or is it only in Sidford - where the pall bearers appear older than the recently dead incumbent of the coffin? If Health and Safety at Work rules now insist on coffins being wheeled along then couldn't the Funeral Director at least ensure the wheels are well oiled before the sombre journey is undertaken.

A trolley doesn't have quite the same emotional impact as a coffin being transported in and out of church on the shoulders of 6 burly black clad men. Replaced instead by a less dignified slow march to squeak squeak squeak.... We crowded into the church 15 minutes ahead of the service. It slowly filled with people of all ages over 70 yrs, the walking sticks and zimmer frames taking up as much room as the mourners. I feel very young amongst so many older folk.
A moment - well several moments - of quiet reflection was frequently broken by the clatter of falling walking sticks. Each clatter on the stone floor made me jump. I must be stressed and tense - I leapt out of my skin each time. A sad occasion but as I felt a giggle trying to surface I was reminded once again that Les wouldn't be there to share the funny side of his funeral service with me. He had a wicked devilish sense of humour. I'll miss him.


A Mother's Place is in the Wrong said...

Hi Lady Thinker, have at last caught up with you and your life. I think you deserve some happy time now - just enjoy it if you can. Margot xx
PS. Loved Nora the cat playing piano.

merry weather said...

Sorry to hear you've lost friends Lady T. That's sad news. As you say your friend Les would surely have chuckled over this squeaky wheels business - how bizarre!

Coffin bearing is a great mark of respect after all.

Around our way the old-fashioned horse and carriage kind of funeral seems to be returning, with the procession led by a man in black top hat and tails plus stick. It certainly stops the traffic for a while - and why ever not, it's an important moment.

I love your daft side by the way :)

lady thinker said...

Thank you both.

I'm pleased to say at today's funeral the wheels ran quietly squeak free.

I like the sound of black horses and a traditional carriage etc. At least that would stop impatient car drivers cutting in on cortege at roundabouts and road junctions. So little repect is shown nowadays.

rilly super said...

The real indignty is when the funeral directors have to rush the trolley back to get their pound back, sigh

lady thinker said...

Oh Rilly my dear gal, we don't quite have that sort of mercenary rush down here in east Devon - not even from funeral directors.

Anonymous said...

Hoping happy tims are to come for you.

I hate going to funerals because by fact of what they are usually miserable and sombre.

When I die I'd like a New Orleans type jazz funeral!

A typical jazz funeral begins with a march by the family, friends, and a brass band from the home, funeral home or church to the cemetery. Throughout the march, the band plays somber dirges and hymns. A change in the tenor of the ceremony takes place, after either the deceased is buried, or the hearse leaves the procession and members of the procession say their final good bye and they "cut the body loose".

After this the music becomes more upbeat, often starting with a hymn or spiritual number played in a swinging fashion, then going into popular hot tunes. There is raucous music and cathartic dancing where onlookers join in to celebrate the life of the deceased. Those who follow the band just to enjoy the music are called the second line, and their style of dancing, in which they walk and sometimes twirl a parasol or handkerchief in the air, is called second lining.

I'm only sad that I won't be there to enjoy it. Well, OK I will be there ... but I'll be dead!

lady thinker said...

hello J9 - that sounds such fun doesn't it - perhaps we should start a new trend to have our funerals before we die so we can join in - hear what everyone wants to say about us. After all at funerals no-one ever whinges on about what a miserable moaner the person was in life.
Then when we die everyone can just get on with feeling weepy and sad without having to travel miles to get together to weep and wail. Just chuck the bodies in the wheely or the recycling bin.