I've been to a funeral today. It was nobody I knew so there was none of the possible emotion and I could enjoy the good bits. (Lest you think I'm a serial funeral stalker let me assure you I'm not.) And, fair play, as they say in Wales, it was a lovely do.
The lady in question had been a member of the her local Methodist chapel for many years and had a strong faith. From what was said it sounds as if she were a lovely lady and the chapel was packed to say goodbye to her. Now the good thing about old Welsh chapels is that they're attended by old Welsh people who love to sing about their faith. And it was a beautiful sing-song. A bit like this.
It was quite a solemn service though. Afterwards I said to Husband, 'I don't want a funeral procession; I want a funeral gallop.'
He looked at me and sighed in the 'well, that's a silly idea' way that he frequently uses with me.
'Okay,' I said, 'well, at least I want people to laugh at my funeral.'
'Have you thought that people may not feel like laughing at your funeral?'
'Rubbish! When you start thinking about all the stupid things I've done you won't be able to stop laughing.'
In fact everyone will probably be laughing so much they'll forget to push the button to burn me and I'll be left lying there until the cleaning lady comes in the evening and gets a fright.