Final Farewells

Well, at last Dad is free to be at peace. The Coroner's office 'phoned this morning and gave the go-ahead so now it's organisation time.

As I mentioned in my last blog, we'd visited the funeral director already to start all the arrangements so the worst was over in that respect. That evening, I was standing there making another cup of delicious caffeine and suddenly was overcome with total panic. It was a strange experience as I realised that, rather than be a bystander at such an event, I was the instigator and, for the first time in my life, head of the Clan. Fortunately it didn't last but I was faced with the responsibilty of creating a service that Dad would have wanted and enjoyed as well as something that would give us all a suitable remembrance and comfort.

Dad had wanted something simple and there aren't going to be many attending so I had to work on providing something that fitted both these criteria. There was certainly going to be no singing as a small group of people mumbling hymns that they don't really know is hardly the most uplifting experience. Having said that, Dad believed in a hereafter and I wanted to respect that.

One hymn that he wanted was the 23rd Psalm, "The Lord's My Shepherd" which he and Mum took great delight in listening to me sing as a pre-pubescent choirboy. Bearing in mind, my comments above, I was relieved that CD facilities were available so that solved that problem! What to do about other music? Well, strange person that I am, I sublimate a lot of emotion and tend to only be able to emote through music. I guess it's some sort of protection and therefore it was a pretty difficult time thinking it all through as the feelings and songs combined.

I wanted something suitably stirring for when we arrived and settled on "Jerusalem" by Emerson, Lake & Palmer. If you don't know it, I've put it on my MP3 player here on the blog. Its power and majesty never fail to move me. As to that horribly final moment when Dad makes his last journey; I wanted to celebrate his life rather than for it to be a moment of sadness so felt it was only fitting that something loved by Dad was played. He was a great lover of Sinatra and Perry Como and I thought along those lines but finally settled on Bill Haley's" See You Later, Alligator". This was an expression used by both Mum and Dad and were the last words Mum said to me as she died so it seemed eminently suitable. I hope the Vicar will understand.

Talking of vicars, he telephoned me today and we chatted about the service. I have to say, he seemed really genuinely interested in doing his best for Dad (and us) and started to ask me about what form I would like the service to take? I explained that, even with the best of intentions, talking about somebody he had never met didn't sit comfortably and tentatively suggested he read out something written by me after consultation with the family. He welcomed this with open arms and totally agreed with my idea so I've spent a while doing that tonight and it's all ready for when I go and see him tomorrow. I was really impressed with his very genuine desire to be involved and am so relieved that the worry of an unctuous "holier than thou" character has not materialised. I've met quite a few clerics over the years and they seem to be like wine - either very good or not worth the effort.

So, Thursday of next week is the big hurdle. In the meantime, Dad is now quite literally over the road from us. I was in two minds as to whether this particular funeral director's was a good choice, given its proximity, but finally decided that I wanted him near me so I could, figuratively speaking, look after him and keep him safe. Sadly, he was never able to see our home so at least he's nearby now.

Just one final word: I have been deeply touched by the love and care that people have shown here on the internet, as well as in the outside world. Thank you, all of you, I am proud to call you friends.