Six weeks after my brother-in-law Sean died, with two post-mortems held plus an inquest opened and adjourned we finally got the go ahead for the funeral. It was Tuesday 10th November 2009 when we got to say our final goodbyes.
Sean was always one for a laugh and a drink and the escapades he got up to were legend. We couldn’t have an ordinary funeral could we? There would be no long slow funeral procession, no piles of flowers on the coffin, no wearing of black and - most definitely - no vicar (unless we could find one that got pissed with Sean down the pub every Friday night!). So I did all the words (the eulogy I guess you’d call it) and we had a wake rather than a funeral. I’d bet that the Chapel at Southend Crematorium had never heard so much laughter!
Choosing the right funeral directors was the first step, it had to be someone who would do exactly what we wanted and we struck gold with T. Cribb & Sons of Leigh-on-Sea with the lovely Sandie doing the arranging and Graham Grimm as the Funeral Director (what a great name for an undertaker!). He was a great bloke, smiling and laughing with the rest of us! Sandie knew from the outset what we wanted and Graham said he just does what Sandie tells him! He got it absolutely right. Mention must also go to Brian who was the Attendant at the Crematorium who I ran everything past the day before and he got all the timing spot on (he also got the bottle of Vodka but we’ll come on to that later).
So we all met at the Crematorium and Sean was already there in his box. There were nine of us altogether. Me and Sandy (his big sister), his mum Pauline, his best mate Mel who had known Sean since school and who flew over from Sicily, his most recent drinking buddy Terry who had known him thirty years, Terry’s lady friend, Sean’s first girlfriend Lolli who he had kept in touch with since they were 17, his last girlfriend Linda who he had been in love with since they were at school together but had only got together with (finally!) about five years ago and his cousin Barry who came down from Edinburgh.
As we walked in we had Queen playing ‘Who Wants to Live Forever’ and once we were all seated I gave the nod to Mr Grimm to bring in the coffin. Apparently you normally stand at this point but we wanted to remain seated in case Sean’s 87 year old mum fell over! The coffin was placed on the catafalque and Terry had arranged with the funeral director to have a bottle of Smirnoff and a packet of Hamlets placed on top of the coffin so up those went. Great stuff! The only flowers we had were white roses - one for each of us to place down at the end - but Graham the funeral man asked Sandy if she would like a rose placed on the coffin. We hadn’t thought of that, another great gesture. Queen played on and came to an end and it was time for me to stand up at the front and say the words.
My bits paid tribute to a life lost far too early (the same age as most of us there) and asked everyone to celebrate Sean’s life instead of mourning his death (actually I might post them for posterity). Mine had one or two laughs but it was his mate Mel that brought the house down! He related all the capers they used to get up to and everybody was falling about laughing! Mel has a pregnant donkey back in Sicily and if the baby is a boy he’s going to call him Sean so he can go out back and have a drink with the donkey whenever he misses his old mate Sean! It turned into a wake rather than a funeral which is exactly what me and Sandy wanted and what Sean would have planned for himself.
I said the final goodbyes on behalf of everybody and we played him out with Van Morrison’s ‘Across the Bridge Where Angels Dwell’ - a stunning track with the most beautiful of words perfect for a funeral. The curtains closed on the line ‘Close your eyes in fields of wonder’ and we were done. The perfect funeral.
All of us were around Sean’s age except for his mum who is 87 and I have to admit that she was probably a little trepidatious at what I had planned but I told her ‘Trust me, this is what Sean would have wanted’. Once it was all over she thanked me for ‘the most beautiful funeral that was perfect for Sean’. It worked for everybody and it worked exactly as I knew it would.
Some people might not feel it’s right to have a laugh at a funeral but it was our funeral and it was Sean’s funeral. He would have loved it, we all loved it and I don’t give a toss what anyone else might say.
Now all(!) that’s left is to have an inquest and find out who was responsible for taking away, far, far too early, a great bloke who had a few more laughs left in him and who had finally found the love of his life to settle down with. Linda is now all alone, Sandy has lost her little brother and her mum has lost her son. It was not an ordinary death and someone should know what they have done. We’ll do all we can to see that that happens.
Well I was going to write about a great holiday but events have got in the way.
This planned move to The Outer Hebrides has stumbled through many obstacles. First our son was made redundant, then my wife, Sandy, was made redundant, then I was made redundant and a couple of days before our holiday Sandy was made redundant again! Last Thursday Sandy’s younger brother died, aged 57. No, he didn’t just ‘die’ he was killed by his GP but that’s another story. Sean (Sandy’s brother not our son) lived at home looking after his (and of course Sandy’s) mum who is 87 and partially sighted. She doesn’t want to (and probably couldn’t) spend the rest of her life alone so where does that leave us all? Guess she’ll come to live with us.
She never was enamoured with our moving to ‘the back of beyond’ (her first words when we told her) but I’m sure she’ll love it once she comes to terms with the idea. One thing is certain, we’re moving to The Outer Hebrides, hopefully sooner rather than later.
At the moment I’m 170 miles from home in a house preserved from the 1960’s waiting for the Coroner to call. I’ve had to spend over 300 quid on a Netbook and broadband dongle just to keep sane and keep in touch with the modern world!
I’ve often wondered why people start blogs and then don’t keep them up to date. After all, how difficult can it be to write a few words every day? Now I understand.
I thought that changing this blog for a while to record my DIY efforts would give me plenty to write about and would be a nice record of everything we have done to get the house looking spick and span ready to be snapped up by the first viewer. There is plenty to write about but, somehow, it just doesn’t get written. The decorating/refurbishment is coming along and plenty has been done but much more remains, nowhere near halfway yet. Every so often I think to myself ‘I’ll do something on the blog tonight’ but at the end of the day I simply can’t be bothered to sit in front of the computer and type. I’d much rather just go to bed.
It certainty hasn’t helped that I’ve not felt well for several weeks and this past week have had a pain in my chest and get pretty exhausted pretty quickly. The doctor seems to think it’s just indigestion but I’ve managed to have an ECG which seems to show everything is normal with my heart. Good or bad? Well, if I’m not going to have a heart attack soon that’s good, but then what the hell is this pain in my chest and tiredness that stops me wanting to crack on with all the work that needs to be done? It sure ain’t indigestion.
I’ve come to the conclusion that blogging is much like dieting. It’s not particularly difficult, there’s no reason not to do it and it really doesn’t take a great deal of effort. Just like dieting though it starts off with all good intentions and reaches a point - never worked out why - where it all becomes too much effort and is abandoned (but it always stays in the back of the mind for when times are better). It just becomes easier to eat what you like and not try to think up words to put on the blog. Maybe I’ve got too many other things to think about and there is a limit to what my brain can cope with.
So, blogging is sort of on the back burner and I’m getting fatter. Might write about the forthcoming ‘Grand Tour’ though which is only a few weeks away now. Really should do that.
Finally made redundant last Friday and actually received all of my redundancy pay today which is pretty impressive since Sandy only received her final payment a week ago having been made redundant on 27th March. Now it’s time to sit down and work out just what to do next. Have signed on for the Jobseekers allowance which I might as well claim having paid in for 45 years. At just under £65 a week it ain’t going to pay for much - god knows how people survive when they don’t have any savings or other income.
Making a start now on doing up the house ready for sale. There is a hell of a lot to be done to make it look presentable. It’s a bit strange really doing so much work purely for phsycological reasons but if the estate agents think it looks good then the selling price will be bumped up and if it’s ‘ready to move into’ then we stand a better chance of selling. Just got to live in a nicely decorated but very bland and neutral house now at least until the end of September and try to keep it tidy! Plan is to put it on the market once we get back from our holiday in Sepetember.
Last September my son, Sean, was made redundant. That didn’t have any effect on our plans until, after eight months without a job, I realised that we might have to stick around in case he needed somewhere to live. Luckily he started a new job a couple of weeks ago.
At the end of March my wife, Sandy, was made redundant and that might have affected our plans but luckily she found a new job a couple of weeks ago.
Today I learned that I will be made redundant in a couple of weeks time. That will affect our plans. But how? We shall see.
If only we had all fiddled our expenses!
