re posted funeral tale

Here is an email I recently sent to my step daughter after her grandmothers funeral in Perth, Scotland.



"Made it home in one piece. What a story to tell. Where do I start?

I arrived about half an hour late yesterday after the plane was delayed leaving Schiphol. On arrival I noticed my new fancy radio signal self changing watch didn't reset itself to UK time and so I was still showing Dutch time and had to keep thinking what the time was. You're probably wondering what all this has to do with the funeral, but bear with me.

When I went to bed last night, I opened the room window - well it was 27 degrees in the room and certainly no need for the Hotel to provide a 24 tog duvet!!!  After about 5 minutes, I got up and shouted out the window at the neighbour whose window was also wide open. Clearly he/she hadno idea just how loud their tv was and that half of central Scotland could hear every word of the programme they were engrossed in. However the shouting worked and the tv was swiftly turned off. Not that that aided the sleeping, 'cos it was like trying to sleep in a Turkish sauna whilst wearing a winter parka with the hood up. (I don't speak from experience)

After breakfast this morning, Derek M picked me up and explained that he'd been around to the house and that George was up, dressed (albeit questionably) and having a few problems despite the increased medical dose (for schizophrenia) . We got there I found George wearing a pair of creased and stained light cream trousers, a dark checked shirt, multi coloured Mickey Mouse tie, his thick green fleece, a cord bonnet and a pair of open toe sandals over once white socks. What the heck thinks I. It's his choice - so when he asked about the appropriateness of his tie (nothing else), I just said "whatever you are happy with" . That seemed to keep him onside - for a while.

At that point, Derek K (who mysteriously had managed to re-schedule his very busy diary and drive up from Kent) and his wife Jean - pronounced Jan ???? ( and heaven help those that don't take heed of that jem of information) arrived. He was delighted to tell us that they stayed overnight in Kinross, cos "that was close enough" - to what ? thought I for a second time. He then proceeded to explain that he's lost five and a half stone over the last two years. Very impressive.

Calvin then arrived and we all sat around listening to George tell us about the world coming to an end and that he was the only survivor. In mid sentence, we also got advice on which of us should be the marksman, cos the sniper would or could be 1out there waiting to bump off the family cos you are all more royal than the royals. ,!!!!

After a brief interlude of why were we all here - on this planet, not at the funeral, we had a little discussion about various historic and long deceased climbers and how would George would manage to find someone to replace Hamish McInness?????

Finally we get ready to leave, after George suggested it was time to go every five minutes from 10 o'clock until 10:35. However, as usual, he had to go to the toilet, followed by Derek and Jean which meant George had to go again as he has to be the last to pee before leaving. Thank goodness for OCD. After finally getting the house locked, he sat in the front of Derek M's car and off we set for the church. Well we managed to get lost en route which resulted in George having a shouting match with Derek, during which he went through a red light. When he slammed on the brakes, George decided he'd had enough and tried to get out of the car. After a bit of man handling and not so gentle persuasion he stayed with us (at least in body) until we finally got to the correct venue. Well they could hardly start without us.

I have to admit I'm not a great fan of Scottish Country Dance Bands, and the ensemble inside the church did nothing to change my mind. Of the five there, none had instruments tuned to the same pitch, at least four of them were playing different tunes and all at different tempos. Class.
I'm sure that if Liz was watching she would have been reaching for the "Tenna Lady", cos she would have been pissing herself laughing.

The two ministers shared the service, and the one with the loudest voice led the hymn singing with gusto. Unfortunately, he started every new line about a second before the music with the result that some of the congregation tried to keep time with him, some tried to keep the pace of the hymn as it was intended and some tried to keep up with the organist who changed the pace to try to catch up with the minister the tried to slow him down again. A musical genius couldn't have composed it any better.

During the service, George was remarkably well behaved and apparently unaffected, although we did have the various permutations of bonnet on along with specks. Bonnet off whist wearing specks. Specks off without bonnet. Bonnet on without specks.  Meanwhile, the loudspeaker directly above George's head began to crackle with static and I feared for the worst. I imagined George was going to take it as the voices he hears, but thankfully we were all spared that pleasure.

Understandably, after the service, George didn't was to do the traditional line up and shake everyone's hand, so Jean led him outside into the torrential rain as Derek, Calvin and Derek did the necessary.
Despite George's protestations that we were taking the wrong route to the cemetery, ( I tried to explain that we were merely following the hearse) , we made it the where the committal was to take place. A very pretty location, just inside the gate and easily identifiable. After the undertakers placed the coffin on the supports, the high head one release the cords for us to lower, but the 1st cord was stuck. He tried to pull it free, but couldn't whilst holding his gloves, so put them down on the coffin, only for them to slip off and fall into the grave. Well at least Liz wont ever have cold hands with a nice pair of leather gloves dropped in beside her.

Back to the hotel and after an alcohol free toast to absent friends (including the wine waiter) we were all furnished with a nice bowl of lentil soup. Unfortunately, before the sandwiches arrived, I had to make my excuses and leave to catch the bus to Broxden in time to get the 2pm Megabus. It was only when I was waiting at Broxden that I remembered my watch was still on Dutch time and that I'd ducked out an hour early.

Well I made it home, entertained by a very noisy macaw on the train, and am about to head off to a well deserved comfortable cool bed.

No need to ever thank me for going to the funeral, I wouldn't have missed it for the world."