The Funeral
Apr. 6th, 2018 10:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lupestripeMy grandfather's funeral yesterday was a fitting tribute. He had requested a humanist ceremony and the celebrant who undertook it did an excellent job, pitching the tone just right with a nice mix of humour and fond reflection. It took place in Perth Crematorium, near to the town of Crieff where he had lived for the past thirty years. There was about twenty of us in attendance - relatives and neighbours predominantly - and afterwards we all headed back to a hotel down the road from his house for a buffet reception and drinks. The food here was exceptional - great steak and ale pies, beef and horseradish sandwiches and ham sandwiches with Arran mustard. They even had something called a Crieff Cake, which was basically a fruit cake soaked in Famous Grouse whisky, which is distilled at the Glenturret Distillery just up the road. I had hoped to swing by here to get a present for Wolfie and my anniversary but alas we didn't have time, which was quite understandable.
We had arrived in Scotland on Wednesday evening - I had travelled to Yarm to hook up with my father and sister after spending the morning at work before embarking on the four hour journey north. The weather conditions weren't great and we ended up driving through a snow blizzard on the M74 north of Dumfries. At one stage we thought we would have to stop the visibility was so bad, but in the end we managed to battle through it. My brother was due to fly into Edinburgh from London later in the evening, giving us a few hours in Crieff to grab some dinner. As a result, we went to the aforementioned hotel where my grandfather used to go and where my father was now on first name terms with a friendly Geordie waiter. He sat us down on the same table favoured by my grandfather and we had a rather pleasant meal of roast chicken and haggis, along with fries. This was followed by a delicious cheeseboard of local Scottish cheeses.
It was weird being back in my grandparents' house, with my last visit having been in 1996. I regret this deeply, particularly as very little seemed to have changed and so a large number of memories were evoked. My grandfather had started collecting more chinzy crap following the death of my grandmother in 2001, but ultimately, the same trinkets and furniture were here now as they were over twenty years ago. My father spent some time asking us whether we wanted any of it, but no-one really did. Indeed, I found it harder to take the foodstuffs away rather than the tat that was lying around. It was odd, but not as odd as seeing the room in which he died, which is where my father and I were going to spend the night. It was surreal to think that a room I knew so well would be the last place my grandfather would see, and the suddenness of it was highlighted by a receipt on the dining room table that showed he had paid £170 for eyecare at 11:08am on the morning he died. He was found dead six and a half hours later, and it's strange to think that that morning he had driven to the opticians and been going about his day, oblivious to what was about to come. It was all so sudden and a very sobering experience.
My main regret of course was not seeing him for over twenty-one years. In fairness, I did mention this to my father at Christmas and asked him to tell me when he was visiting again but he never did. I was also going to drop him a visit during our proposed Scotland trip next month but of course it's now too late. During the euology, in some respects I didn't recognise the man they were describing, or at least I didn't relate to some aspects. And yet now I feel closer to him, particularly because I found out he moved to Scotland in the 1960s because he didn't feel at home in England. He was quite an imposing presence when I was fourteen, but he did like a drink and I get the impression as an adult we would have been closer. The one positive about the day was I did manage to catch up with my relatives on my father's side, many of whom I had never seen before and some of whom I hadn't seen since about 2001. My two uncles and two cousins it was a pleasure to talk to, and indeed it was like we had never been away. I didn't realise that one of my cousins lives in Edinburgh and the other in Glasgow and we have now traded numbers so we can meet independently. I do hope to see this side of the family more often.
In the end then, what could have been a sad day turned into a celebration. This was the first funeral of a family member I had ever attended - we didn't go to my grandmother's for reasons I can't quite remember - and at the age of 35, I consider myself exceptionally unfortunate. The ride up to the crematorium in the limousine was not as drab as it could have been, aided by the wonderful snowy hills on the horizon, and even being parked outside St Johnstone Football Club for ten minutes as we were early wasn't a problem. The atmosphere was light, the service well-pitched and the wake a good excuse to socialise. Even going back to his house afterwards provided opportunities to catch up and we ended up staying way past 6pm, which was a bit of an issue as we still had a four hour drive ahead of us. Still, I am glad I headed up there and it was a positive day under the circumstances. I just regret I never got there sooner.
We had arrived in Scotland on Wednesday evening - I had travelled to Yarm to hook up with my father and sister after spending the morning at work before embarking on the four hour journey north. The weather conditions weren't great and we ended up driving through a snow blizzard on the M74 north of Dumfries. At one stage we thought we would have to stop the visibility was so bad, but in the end we managed to battle through it. My brother was due to fly into Edinburgh from London later in the evening, giving us a few hours in Crieff to grab some dinner. As a result, we went to the aforementioned hotel where my grandfather used to go and where my father was now on first name terms with a friendly Geordie waiter. He sat us down on the same table favoured by my grandfather and we had a rather pleasant meal of roast chicken and haggis, along with fries. This was followed by a delicious cheeseboard of local Scottish cheeses.
It was weird being back in my grandparents' house, with my last visit having been in 1996. I regret this deeply, particularly as very little seemed to have changed and so a large number of memories were evoked. My grandfather had started collecting more chinzy crap following the death of my grandmother in 2001, but ultimately, the same trinkets and furniture were here now as they were over twenty years ago. My father spent some time asking us whether we wanted any of it, but no-one really did. Indeed, I found it harder to take the foodstuffs away rather than the tat that was lying around. It was odd, but not as odd as seeing the room in which he died, which is where my father and I were going to spend the night. It was surreal to think that a room I knew so well would be the last place my grandfather would see, and the suddenness of it was highlighted by a receipt on the dining room table that showed he had paid £170 for eyecare at 11:08am on the morning he died. He was found dead six and a half hours later, and it's strange to think that that morning he had driven to the opticians and been going about his day, oblivious to what was about to come. It was all so sudden and a very sobering experience.
My main regret of course was not seeing him for over twenty-one years. In fairness, I did mention this to my father at Christmas and asked him to tell me when he was visiting again but he never did. I was also going to drop him a visit during our proposed Scotland trip next month but of course it's now too late. During the euology, in some respects I didn't recognise the man they were describing, or at least I didn't relate to some aspects. And yet now I feel closer to him, particularly because I found out he moved to Scotland in the 1960s because he didn't feel at home in England. He was quite an imposing presence when I was fourteen, but he did like a drink and I get the impression as an adult we would have been closer. The one positive about the day was I did manage to catch up with my relatives on my father's side, many of whom I had never seen before and some of whom I hadn't seen since about 2001. My two uncles and two cousins it was a pleasure to talk to, and indeed it was like we had never been away. I didn't realise that one of my cousins lives in Edinburgh and the other in Glasgow and we have now traded numbers so we can meet independently. I do hope to see this side of the family more often.
In the end then, what could have been a sad day turned into a celebration. This was the first funeral of a family member I had ever attended - we didn't go to my grandmother's for reasons I can't quite remember - and at the age of 35, I consider myself exceptionally unfortunate. The ride up to the crematorium in the limousine was not as drab as it could have been, aided by the wonderful snowy hills on the horizon, and even being parked outside St Johnstone Football Club for ten minutes as we were early wasn't a problem. The atmosphere was light, the service well-pitched and the wake a good excuse to socialise. Even going back to his house afterwards provided opportunities to catch up and we ended up staying way past 6pm, which was a bit of an issue as we still had a four hour drive ahead of us. Still, I am glad I headed up there and it was a positive day under the circumstances. I just regret I never got there sooner.
