Another

Another funeral... again held at the nearby Hutcliffe Wood Crematorium. It was well-attended. The "departed" was a fellow called Paul who lived round the corner. He was 74 years old. We had known him for over thirty years.  His middle child, Laura, was in our Ian's class at primary school and his youngest child, John, was in our Frances's class.

As is so often the case, it was cancer that got him. He died last month at home with a lot of end-of-life care being provided by St Luke's - our local hospice.

It was nice that the service was humanist - led by a well-informed and kindly celebrant with not a whiff of that religious claptrap that we so often have to endure at funerals. "He is with God now" - I am sorry but no he is not - he is just dead, plain dead - and nothing continues but the memories.

Paul would have been proud of his three grown-up children. They each went up to the dais and delivered dignified but heartfelt reflections upon the loss of a father they had dearly loved and respected. He meant the world to them and in his honour, they managed to hold themselves together.

Paul was a working class lad made good. He spent most of his working life with the probation service - focusing particularly upon children. He never forgot his roots in the north east of England where his socialist outlook on life was shaped. As well as his wife Janice and family, he loved written words and beer and music - though not necessarily in that order.

It is a shame that I never realised he was a big Bob Dylan fan. The parting music played at his funeral ceremony was one of Dylan's lesser known numbers... "You're Gonna Make me Lonesome When You Go". A good way to say goodbye...