“Two
hours later, back in the guesthouse, attending online the funeral of my lovely
cousin and am in tears. Interspersed
with laughter. As is the case with my
family. Thank you, cousins, for the
sendoff you gave him. Xxx”
Which
prompted me to reply with
“All funerals should be interspersed with tears and laughter, it's the
only way to cope.”
And these memories of Phil’s funeral.
Well,
not actually the funeral, the wake which happened the same night.
I
was expected to go.
Bigbrother
drove me down and dropped me off with “I won’t come in, I’ll come back at
closing time.”
There
were many many people from the local folk and music scene there .
The Cumberland Arms ran out of beer and had to send down to The Ship for
bottles.
The two bars were packed yet there was room for more hugs than I’ve ever
known.
Phil’s little cousin became unable to stand so sat holding me with his
arms around my waist.
His music partner George stood beside me as bereaved as I and said
"It's good you're here, people want to see you, you're the nearest thing we have to
Phil."
I replied "Oh gosh, I'm Phil's proxy! I've always wanted to be a proxy."
At which his cousin, ever the St Cuthbert’s school pedant, looked up
from under my armpit and said
"No, you're not a proxy. You're a fetish."
There's no answer to that...
Treasured memories!
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