Nov 1 - Funeral

It's been a week.

Off and on bouts of pretty ill, to, eh, kinda ill.

Yesterday was a nasty spike of nausea that got so bad, I was back in bed, and then asleep for half the day. If I can get to sleep, it's usually the best place for me. So true of many of my issues. The oblivion of sleep.

Being ill yesterday was not great timing. Shit to do. Ducks to get in a row for the funeral today. My health had other ideas however. I gave up fighting it at midday and slumped into just looking after myself.

It makes me more aware than ever that, when I am in a position that I can babysit my health, I can do better, and wax and wane with the good days and bad days. But when I have a thing to do, at a time, a day, a place. It's a roulette wheel. I just cannot guarantee being ok enough on any given day. It makes me realise just how crappy my health is at times.

Hum ho.

Today, the funeral, I managed to hold my health together enough. Put on a good face. And for the larger part shrugged off the issues. I drove down to the crematorium with my gastro still giving me a queasy ride. By the time I got there it had eased off.

The funeral was good. Good as in. Professional. Respectful. What you want. The humanist dude did lapse into some sudden Jesus Prayers. Which. Uh. What ? But. Eh. Ok. But otherwise, he did a good job. My moms life was covered, and he touched on thinking about the good things not the bad, remembering, not letting things slip away and being grateful for a life lived, rather than endlessly sad about a life gone. He read a lovely poem in the middle, which, seems to be a popular funeral poem, but for all of it being common, it's good.

When I'm Gone

When I come to the end of my journey
And I travel my last weary mile
Just forget if you can, that I ever frowned
And remember only the smile 

Forget unkind words I have spoken
Remember some good I have done
Forget that I ever had heartache
And remember I've had loads of fun 

Forget that I've stumbled and blundered
And sometimes fell by the way
Remember I have fought some hard battles
And won, ere the close of the day 

Then forget to grieve for my going
I would not have you sad for a day
But in summer just gather some flowers
And remember the place where I lay 

And come in the shade of evening
When the sun paints the sky in the west
Stand for a few moments beside me
And remember only my best

 

Which, I think, is touching. And sad.

My brother had a small sniffle. My sister a bit more. The worst of it was borne by my nieces and nephews. Through their eyes they saw a different person to me and my siblings. A softer, kinder person. And. For the family. Their first - but very definitely - not their last funeral. And so, it hit home hard.

I had suspected it would. But still. You don't know. And it's like my brother said. It's not just us ( my brother, my sister, myself ). It's all the kids. And their relationship and memories. As it turns out, pretty heavy.

So. A good thing we had the funeral I think. More than a good thing. My mom got a goodbye. She was not alone at the end. Everyone got to say their goodbyes. And think on things. And draw a line under a sad point. And people were there for each other.

One of my grand nieces attended the funeral. She sat with her mom. Who sat with her mom. 3 generations. Sitting next to me. The pews were at right angles. So it meant, from the corner of your eye, you could see the angled pew.

Whilst I listened to the service, I watched the front row. All the body language. The tics. The pats. The sniffles. Watching the rise and fall of emotions in each person.

My grand niece would check us all out. Looked at me several times. Sniffled herself a bit. But. There it is. You can tell. Learning. Absorbing. Checking what her family are doing. How does this work.

Her first funeral period. Let alone family funeral.

It gave me some heart. That a good example was being set. This is how we come together in grief. This is what you do. This is how you support each other. She and her mom had the sweetest of bonds. They sat there holding hands. Each at times stroking the other. My grand niece - Faith - is 16 years old. It spoke absolute volumes about the bond between mother and daughter. And if they had not done so before, then today, they got to be there for each other, to acknowledge the grief, support, come together.

In my opinion.

Just about as important as it gets.

And my nieces and nephews en masse. Got to live that. And understand.

Sure. Funerals are shit. Sad. Awful. But they are also important - particularly for a fucked up splintered family like ours. And it sets an example that we are in short supply of.

 

I cannot emphasise this enough. From one nephew that struggles to open up to anyone about anything. To another that is ostracised. To another that has no excuse to come together. And on. And on. All of them spinning in their own worlds, unsupported, wondering what to make of their grandmas death.

And. Just one month ago none of this was going to happen. No funeral. No nothing. To repeat my dads words. Just burn her. Another day. The world keeps turning.

Sure.

But also.

No.

 

And after a short period of thought. Fuck No. Not Going To Fucking Happen.

I was the one that stood up and said No. I don't care if anyone else attends. Or what happens. I am going to go. And stand vigil if nothing else. Because fuck that shit. My mom deserved not to go out alone at the very last. Fuck. That. Shit. I would do that for anyone. Everyone. Because no one deserves to be on their own at the end. And for my mom ? Of course.

So I would do that.

And I got on my soapbox about the importance of it for everyone.

Everyone. Caught in their own little worlds of trying to figure out what it all meant. But.

I can't control everyone else. Just me. So whatever decision is made. Fine.

So my input. Have a funeral. It sets an example if nothing else to the younger generation. It does NOT let the example of my dad - just burn her - set in like a rot to literally 1,2,3,4 generations down the line. And if not a funeral. Then a wake. Avoid the old mans wrath at a funeral, and just have a wake.

 

But in the end it doesn't matter whether you listen to me or not. I will go. And I will stand with her.

And in the end. As it turns out. In some weird way. I brought everyone along with me.

We had a funeral. And the whole family attended. All of them ( except my dad ).

We had a wake. And even the old man attended for the latter half of it.

 

But really. It was the funeral in the end that was the thing. The wake was just a release. The funeral was the thing that hit home.

Examples were set. Respect was paid. And I think. I dragged my family into the light. For once. Well. Everyone except my dad.

Of course, my brother ended up arranging pretty much all of it. But even at the end, the question of who pays and yada. The decision making. The plan. I settled. Unequivocally. This Is What Happens. No, do not ask the old man for money. Or bring it up at all. This is the right road. I put my card behind the bar, it gets paid for. I don't care what people drink. And my brother after listening... followed. He would like to split it with me. You don't have to. He would like to. Sure. We will do that then. This is where I am walking Rob. I do not expect you to follow. But he wanted to. So he came with me.

All of this, of course, because, of bloody course, has given me some things to think over again. I am not entirely sure how it is, that everyone ended up following me, from zero to everything. I did not threaten or cajole, I did not beat them from a moral high horse. It literally did not matter to me what they chose. I would think no ill of anyone, whatever choice they made. Yes, in theory, This Thing Should be Done. But I am well used to people being people. And rarely do good choices get made. Right things done. A better path taken. It is the nature of the human conditon to be something of a clown car of disasters trundling down the road and dropping parts in its wake.

But this time. The thing was done. One of my friends said that I had done a good thing. That I should be at peace about it, and not overthink it.

Ho hum.

For myself today. It was sad. But. Nothing terrible. The closure and the processing have been going on for years with me. You can go back in this blog and see some of it slowly turning. That doesn't mean to say it makes it any easier. But sometimes it does. And in this last month I have processed a lot. Some of it against my will with the whole dragging up from the mud every half week the fight to get where we ended up with a funeral and a wake. But a lot of it myself. Figuring out where the final stones would drop, the impact to me, my life, my relationships with everyone.

And so today was sad. But not terrible. And I was glad we were all there for my mom. I kept thinking that she would have loved to see us all there. That ironically, she would have loved her own funeral. And seeing all the family together. And it brought us altogether in a really good way. It could have been so, so different, if there had been nothing at all. I did not in the end share those thoughts with anyone. But I kept thinking them. And that it was a shame my mom was not here to see it. It made me reflect on the shortness of life, and how we put off shit until it's too late. And then. Lament it would have been nice afterwards. If only we had all got together when she was still alive. So stupid.

Ho hum.

But I think in the end, perhaps that's one of the most important things here - I think my mom would have been pleased and proud. And we all took time to properly remember her and say goodbye and were with her at the very end.

I cannot think of what better you could do.

I put on my smarts for the day. Very smart. The smartest that Johnny could be. As I said before I had debated about whether to not bother, half bother, or fully bother. Personally. It is important only that the person remember. It doesn't matter what they wear. Or even push comes to shove, where they are. But being there helps an awful lot. And maybe does matter. But how you attend ? Not important. That you show up. You give a shit. And you think on them. That is important.

That being said. My mom loved me being smart. Her day. So. Smart it is. Not for me. For everyone else, my mom especially. As my friend said, no one is going to be upset with you about turning up smart to a funeral. If anything, they will get some peace from it. Normality. This is the Done Thing.

One of those examples I suppose. Not one that I particularly super subscribe to. It's just fashion. But. My mom did. And some do. So. Smart. As smart as you can get. Because if you're going to do it, then do it right.

And also. Somewhat. This is my idea. I lead. Everyone followed. So for fuck sakes do a good job of holding the torch. Again, it doesn't really matter in one way. In another way. It matters. Do the thing. Do it right. For my mom.

Everyone said I looked very smart. Surprise. Because Johnny doesn't do smart. Very smart. I stood up straight and literally squared my shoulders. And did the thing. I know how to do the thing.

I don't know if it was the day. The shoes. Or what. But I towered over almost everyone. My sister felt so short to me, came up to my chest. My brother, who I usually take as the same height as me, was much shorter. My cousin who I hadn't seen in 35 years came up to just above my chest where once he had seemed a giant. Perhaps I was standing straight. Perhaps everyone else was hunched. I don't know. Weird. Perhaps it was the smart suit. But yeah. Despite myself. I did get a glimpse of me. Oh. Fuck me. You're an example. To people. You dumb ass, broken, fucked up, depressed, over thinking idiot. And I suppose. In that moment. There is the leader that I swear up and down I am not, leading from the front. I am not a leader. But squint. And sometimes, maybe, you could mistake me for one. This is what a whole bunch of poor deluded people in Norwich think I am too. The person that stands in a room and bellows everyone to quiet down, and leads from a happy positive place.

So not me.

But I do a good impression.

As I have reflected before. Perhaps this is just the secret to such things. We all have many facets to ourselves. And even internally, we perhaps do not always see well what we are at any one point in time to others around us. The hero. Or the villain. A good dad. A bad girlfriend. The weak. Or the strong. The leader. Or the follower.

And some may see things in us that we struggle to see. Or do not believe can be true.

And yet for them. It's very true.

But for today. I did a thing. I pulled together a family. I gave my mom a goodbye. And I lead by example.

 

And me being me. And being that example. I kept an eye on everyone. Anyone that looked alone. Or awkward. And rescued them. And chatted to them. And put them at ease. Because. That's what you do. Many much skills learned from handling a decade of socially anxious gamers standing awkwardly alone in a pub.

 

So my day is done. I am tired. Sandy itchy eyes. Ringing ears.

Now. I can collapse back into a hole.

And slumber in a fitful sleep.

There are - as ever for me - shadowed paths to walk.

And if there is ever just one thing I can do. It's hold a light for someone in the dark. At the end of the road. I will be there.

Bye mom. It will be hard not hearing your voice ever again.

I think I did the right thing for you today. For everyone.