In amongst the scrabble pieces, out amongst the stars,
Just around the corners of my mind, in memory.
The funeral was, well, a funeral really. It was good in that way that funerals are the worst thing on earth and in the way that wakes mean you remember the good times.
I’ve never been to a burial and been family before. I’ve never sat in the front limosine of the procession before. I’ve never seen my cousin Emma break down so completely in tears that didn’t strike me as somehow false. I’ve never seen my Dad and Aunty Susan be so close.
I liked the lay reader who did the service, I think I can see why Grandma did actually. Couldn’t think of anything to write on the card for the flowers, just wrote ‘love’ in the end.
I couldn’t bear to touch any of them; Emma and her fiance were clutching each other in the church, same with Tim and Vicky, Mum and Dad kept gripping hands ever so often, Uncle Malcolm kept just brushing Aunty Susan every so often, just fingertips you know. And Jenny, I’ve never seen her so lost, alone and wailing, not since she was really small. Mum kept cuddling her like she was six. I couldn’t go near any of them for fear that they might touch me, I nearly screamed at Dad when he put a hnd on my shoulder and asked if I was alright.
Everyone was asking ‘Are you alright?’, I kept saying fine; what the hell are you supposed to say? ‘I’m fine, my Grandmother’s dead so I’m as sad as I have been this year, well since my Great-Uncle died thanks for asking and theres not a thing you can do about it so back off and quit bloody pawing at me’ ?
There were two cars for family, I’ve never been to a better attended funeral, can’t stand my second cousin Kenny, have no idea why love Ronnie to pieces, its just that random initial reaction that you have to some people I guess.
The coffin was too well mad to rot quickly, you’d think it should all be made to rejoin with the earth quicker than that really. I don’t know. The earth made a terrible pattering sound as it hit the coffin lid when you threw it in.
How do you grieve? I don’t seem to be able to cry properly. I mean when Uncle Arthur died I cried buckets for days and kept having random Unlce Arthur moments when I had to cry. Same with Grandad, I cried and cried and then the funeral happened and I didn’t cry much after that. I only cried on Zoe for Grandma and theres this huge great puddle inside me that is just there. There are no poems to say or things that I can tell everybody, and I haven’t cried so much at all. I felt like an alien at the funeral, like everyone was describing someone I hardly recognised.
There were too many people at the wake. And I couldn’t run off to my Grandma’s room to avoid all the people at Aunty Susan’s house like I usually do. And I am very very sad.
Am I alright? No of course I’m not all right, how can I be alright again? I wanted her to be there if I fell in love again, I wanted to show her my photos from Japan, I wanted her to be proud of me for all the stuff I haven’t done yet and she isn’t going to be.
I felt like an alien at the funeral because the small sarcastic figure that I usually run to and hide with at huge family gatherings was the one in the coffin. And I feel more like I’m drowning that ever.