Keeping the dream alive

Funerals are funny things. By turns they're devastating, highly emotional, give pause for thought and are hilarious, both intentionally and unintentionally.

The father-in-law's went without a hitch. Everyone's lips were quivering on arrival at the crem, but what did it for me was seeing how many people were there; all the old men in their golf club ties and blazers made me realise that I'd better join an association soon or mourners at my funeral will be severely lacking. He was a very popular man and will be much missed.

The service was lengthy, with hymns and despite him not being an overtly religious man was packed with prayer. I wouldn't have wanted to be the person who's mobile went off. Everyone turned around and glared but the culprit, whoever it was, did a good job of
being nonchalant.

At the reception later endless old bids I'd heard of but never met made a beeline and talked all about their dead husbands. Mother-in-law looked little and bewildered. I heard snippets of conversations along the lines of:

Buck-toothed woman to ex-teacher: Is you wife here?

Ex-teacher: She died 10 years ago.

Buck-toothed woman: No, your current wife...

Ex-teacher: We're no long together. She was doing up a house on the other side of the island and one day she went there and didn't come back.

Buck-toothed woman: Is that Rosemary over there...(darts off)

It all passes the time.

So now life goes on.

It's snowing here.