Grave Goods

On the evening of Friday 13^th November 2015 there were a series of terrorist attacks in Paris, including suicide bombings, mass shootings and hostage taking.

From Facebook archives

14 November 2015 at 17:35

There's an understandable amount of seriousness and sadness on  Facebook today, so here's something to light it up a little.

I sometimes think my mother's gravestone should read 

"It was very nice but ..." 

because that seemed to be her reaction to almost everything and everywhere she went or was taken (including my wedding by the way).

But one valuable thing she taught me was that it is not a sin to smile in times of tragedy and sometimes laughter is the only way to keep the darkness at bay.

She used to tell me stories about when she was a WAAF in WW2, and how, during air raids, she and her friends used to discuss what they would like put in their coffins.   

Which is why when the archaeologists dig up St Paul's churchyard in Manordeilo they will find, with my mother's bones, a lipstick in a metal case (because she never went anywhere important without), a candle and matches to light it, a quarter pound of mint imperials and a bar of Cadbury's milk chocolate (in place of the 20 Kensitas she's wanted before giving up smoking)

Heddwch Shalom Salaam

Addendum

When Phil died in 1992 I had the problem of what he should wear in his coffin and for his funeral.

As one point I found myself saying to a friend on the phone 

“The undertaker says he could wear a shroud, but that’s just like a big lavendar nightie, or a suit, but Phil wouldn’t be seen dead in a suit.”

There was three seconds dead silence then we both burst out laughing at either end of the line.

Phil’s music partner suggested his Cheap Sunglasses Serenaders stage clothes because he was always happy when wearing them; but they looked too shabby.

I finally settled on: red silk boxers I’d given him one Christmas; the Hawaiian shirt I brought him back from Vancouver, his favourite cream chinos, a pair of really thick comfortable cotton sports socks and his red Kicker shoes (which I polished until they shone).

When I had the stuff ready for the undertaker I also put a capo and plectrum in his shirt pocket, so he would always be ready to play.

 

For a moment I considered including the price of a pint, then decided that wherever he was going he wasn’t going to have to pay for the beer.