Playing her Song
My maternal grandmother's funeral, though sombre, was not a particularly emotional affair. This was for a couple of reasons, the most important of which was that she had been doolally for quite some time by the time she died: whatever had been important about her had vanished long before her body gave out anyway. Moreover, my family is not the sort to display emotions publicly (or at all, for that matter). We're quite a stoic bunch.

After the service, we were standing outside the church chatting with some of the people who'd come along. My mother was in conversation with one well-wisher when she was interrupted by someone she vaguely recognised, but to whom (she later said) she couldn't put a name.
"I just wanted to say," hissed the half stranger, "that I knew your mother, and she would not have approved of those hymns."

By the time Mum had processed what had been said, the indignant stranger had stalked off into the February afternoon. We're still not sure who she was.

It's a reworked pea from a couple of months ago, but I reckon it works here...
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Wed 18 May 2011, 11:01, 9 replies)

i like this.

( janet aylia y'all motherfuckers need jesus, Wed 18 May 2011, 11:04, closed)

Ta!

( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Wed 18 May 2011, 11:13, closed)

think yourself lucky - i don't like ANYTHING, generally.

( janet aylia y'all motherfuckers need jesus, Wed 18 May 2011, 11:26, closed)

Haha.
They played Guide Me Oh Thou Great Redeemer at my grandad's funeral which he would have hated because it was the same tune as Cwm Rhondda and he was a massive anti-welsh racist. Fortunately he was deaf. And dead.
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Wed 18 May 2011, 11:21, closed)

Bwahahaha!
I quite liked Ricky Gervais' story from when he was on Desert Island Discs about his mother's funeral: apparently they invented an extra child, Larry, and got the vicar to talk about him in the address.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Wed 18 May 2011, 11:24, closed)

At my grandmother's funeral me and my dad were standing next to the hearse outside the church chatting about the weight of the coffin.
"You think that was heavy? You should have been carrying your dad!" I said. At which we both had a good old guffaw ... the very instant that the vicar walked out. She (she ... I ask you!) gave us the full-on church-of-england raised eyebrows of disapproval.
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Wed 18 May 2011, 11:29, closed)

isnt that the song they
played when the coach carrying 55 thalidomides followed the wrong satnav directions over the cliff?
several survived but couldnt feel there legs
( fluffybunnykiller Is feasting on the clitoris of life, Thu 19 May 2011, 11:08, closed)

I like to make a point of waiting outside funerals and establishing who the nearest are to the deceased
and then going up to them, hissing an indignant comment and storming off.

So - that was probably me.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Wed 18 May 2011, 11:24, closed)

Naaah. It wasn't raining.

( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Wed 18 May 2011, 11:25, closed)