20 December 2018

Funerals

Woodlands Crematorium, Scunthorpe
We have attended two funerals this week.

First came Auntie Joyce's funeral over at Scunthorpe - an hour's drive away. It was well-attended and the ceremony was presided over by a humanist celebrant. The only nod to religion was the inclusion of "The Lord's Prayer" which attendees could say if they wanted to but as usual I declined.

A nice thing about eulogies at funerals is that you often learn details about the departed that you never knew before. I learnt about Auntie Joyce's tough early days - growing up in a coal mining community near Doncaster. Previously, I  assumed that she had been born and raised west of the River Trent like Shirley's parents and extended family - in an agricultural landscape known as The Isle of Axholme.

The second funeral happened on Tuesday morning. It was held in the Hutcliffe Wood Crematorium in Sheffield and it's another farewell facility I have visited a dozen times or more. This time we were saying goodbye to Geoff. He had collapsed and died at home in his eighty fifth year. He was a lovely man.

He was a man who listened and he had a positive, upbeat attitude to life. His son Steve ran away from his first marriage when his three children were very small. We know Steve's first wife very well and it was a great challenge for her when unexpectedly she found herself the head of a one parent family. But though Geoff was her father-in-law and not her father he stood by them all and was very active in the lives of his grandkids - becoming the number one male role model in their lives.

It is partly testament to him that all three have grown up to be  delightful and successful adults. The lads helped to bear Geoff's coffin into the chapel while the daughter read a funeral poem very fluently until the very last line when she cracked up and blubbered to a halt. She is our daughter's best friend.

One day I guess there will be a funeral for me. There will probably only be three or four people and a stray dog there such is the impact I have made upon this world. I would like the humanist celebrant in attendance to say, "He was born, he lived and then he died. That's all folks!"

Though I am not religious, I have sometimes thought that I might like to be buried in the abandoned graveyard of St Faith's Church - a mile west of the village where I was born.  It is a quiet place so rarely visited. There I might sleep peacefully forever more - returning to the earth. Perhaps illogically, I find the prospect of being barbecued most unappealing.
St Faith's churchyard

18 comments:

  1. Frankly I find the idea of being left to rot far less appealing than being barbecued (as you put it). Geoff sounds like the sort of person I should have liked to have been.

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    1. Your essential goodness shines from your blogposts and from your thoughtful comments Graham. I am sure you are more like Geoff than you think.

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  2. Somehow it always seems even sadder to attend funerals at Christmas!
    This year we have the great fortune of twin grand nephews being born albeit only 29 weeks so they are getting special care in the neonatel unit but doing well.
    Timely for you and Shirley to have some egg nog and a good hug ... a bit of cheering up all round is in order. Regards, Elle

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    1. Thank you for calling by again Elle and congratulations to the parents of your little grand nephews. Sounds like the babes are determined to grab a hold of life.

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  3. My condolences on both of these losses, YP. Geoff sounds like a good man, someone who really stepped up to the plate when it was needed.

    I want to be "barbecued" because I've read too many horrible stories about people being buried alive or being shoved in a morgue and then being found to still be alive! Cremation isn't very good for the environment, though. Perhaps I should donate myself to science, but I hate the thought of anyone seeing me in my birthday suit. It doesn't fit as well as it used to.

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    1. You could leave your mortal remains to the nearest zoo with clear instructions to the lion keepers to turn their heads. My birthday suit is also looser than it used to be. Ah, well...

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  4. When I die, I want to become a tree.

    There's a service offered around here where you're cremated and the remains are put in a biodegradable pot with a young tree inside. I love the idea of that; a young guy I used to work with had that done when his father died. The tree he chose for his father was a live oak and he planted it on some land his dad had left him. I think that's so much nicer than taking up space in a cemetery--becoming a living, growing tree that will provide a home for birds and insects and little creatures, beautify the landscape, and improve the environment.

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    1. How wonderful!

      But you could be a tree this year Jennifer! Stand still in the corner with your arms outstretched and Gregg can decorate you with baubles!

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  5. Scunthorpe and now funerals! Lighten up please Mr Pudding.

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  6. I'm not crazy about barbecuing but I'm not crazy about burying either. There's an Absolutely Fabulous episode where Edina expresses a desire to be laid out on a rock and pecked by birds. I could go for that.

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  7. Two losses in one week and at Christmas too. I am sorry to hear that. I've never like the thought of cremation but my brother chose that option and requested his ashes be spread at the beginning of the Mississippi River where he used to camp and canoe. It was actually a very nice, private family service and is changing my mind on cremation.

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    1. When scattering ashes it is advisable to avoid windy days!

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  8. Well, I will be cremated and my ashes scattered on the very place I was born. the biggest problem is to persuade someone to do the scattering.

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    1. There's a business opportunity there! Ashscatterers.com.

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  9. I suppose what happens with my body won't matter to me anymore once I'm dead, but I do not expect a big turnout for my funeral, either. There are no children, and my friends are all more or less the same age; if I die in my 80s, they'll be elderly ladies and gentlemen with health and mobility issues.

    By the way, who will inform us, your friends and readers in blogland, when you won't be posting any more?

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    1. That is a good question. Any blogger could drop dead and we wouldn't know about it. Molly Printemps knew she was dying and asked her sister to post on her blog after Molly's tragic death.

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Mr Pudding welcomes all genuine comments - even those with which he disagrees. However, puerile or abusive comments from anonymous contributors will continue to be given the short shrift they deserve. Any spam comments that get through Google/Blogger defences will also be quickly deleted.

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