Firstly the church was stunning, though I’m not a big fan of religion I do admire its architecture. It was a large church with ugly large grey blocks on the outside, what made it stand out was it’s huge domed roof. Inside it was gleaming white walls with the dome a stunning rich blue with a few golden stars. There was marble everywhere, and, unlike a lot of churches it was warm and welcoming.
Secondly the service was personal. It is only my second funeral but I’ve heard horror stories of clergymen preaching the bible rather than celebrate the life of whom the congregation are meant to be mourning. No the service was a lot more personal and I felt closer to ‘grannie’ thanks to it.
The burial was the tear jerking moment. Seeing my girlfriend & her family so upset was painful and led to my eyes watering – though this may have also been brought on by one of the coffin bearers just escaping slipping 6ft under.
There was also the Vicar’s overuse of the word ‘dust’ which just had me thinking of Little Britain’s Fat Fighting classes. (Don’t worry I kept that to myself, well until now..)
Finally the Wake, which took place at the school the dearly departed had founded. Again it was perfect with family members laughing, joking and sharing happy memories – how it should be.
It’s scary though how funerals make you realise how little time you have on this planet but if can achieve even half as much as ‘grannie’ did in her life I will be a happy man.