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This is a question Putting the Fun in Funeral

Some deaths come suddenly or too soon and can really hit hard, others seem to be a blessed relief. Similarly, some funerals can be deeply upsetting and sad, others can make you want to hug the world.

Mmm, don't want to bring you down or anything, but tell us your funeral stories...

(, Thu 11 May 2006, 9:31)
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unlucky in death
It was an extremely sad and unfortunate turn of events that led to my friends dads death. However the funeral went rather well and hilarity ensued. I have posted several stories about my intellectually challenged friend joel and his stupid adventures, and this is no different. When it came to givin ghr speeches in the church it seemed everyone had been given the wrong speeches, cue my mate reading his mothers out and describing his own fathers passion!! His sister then managed to somehow loosen her tongue stud and proceeded to choke on it halfway through her (or her brothers speech) The old wisened organ player had left her reading glasses at home cue her playing all the wrong songs and the 'audience' trying to compensate by making words up to songs, then to cap it all off, my mate was the lead pall bearer and tears must have clouded his vision as he proceeded to fall in the 6ft hole made for his fathers final resting place. Luckily him and his family did see the funny side of it all. A very sad day but with little bits of happiness in the form of amusement.
as for length and girth, call me TRIPOD!
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 20:31, Reply)
At my funeral
Hopefully it won't be for a while, but when I go I was "Ed is dead" by the pixies played.

I have told my friends that I am serious about this, should raise a few smiles.

(, Fri 12 May 2006, 20:29, Reply)
MY Partners Nans Wedding
GEtting in the car to go to the funeral I heard a rip. I had torn my trousers down the middle seam. Bollocks dangling down. Cue much hillarity in the Crematorium.
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 20:11, Reply)
Nice one, Mum
At my Great-Aunt's wake (I didn't go to the funeral, I was at school and it was during exams...bah), we were sitting around in my Nan's kitchen, eating sandwiches and stuff, making awkward conversation, my Nan says "It was a lovely ceremony, wasn't it? very nice." and my mother comes out with "Yeah, yeah it was. She'd have been pleased to death..." *cue uncomfortable silence, punctuated only by stifled giggling of me, my brother and my cousin*.

'Great' indeed she was, tiny old lady, one of those aunties who always had a cupboard filled with chocolate and crisps, its incredible that I wasn't morbidly obese as a child.
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 18:27, Reply)
Saw a fogey brawl at a wake once...
...I was about 13 or 14 and had attended the funeral of a distant Great Uncle in his 80's whom I had met only once - when I was 6 months or so old...so naturally I remembered him not at all, and wasn't so bothered by the whole thing - just lining up behind my parents to mumble my condolences to dozens of people I'd never met but all of whom seemed to know me.

Travelled about 3hrs by car to the funeral - which was your bog-standard tacky churchy affair. Then everyone retreated down the road to his local bowls club where he was a life member & a vice president or a president of something or other - the beer was flowing freely, and then about an hour in there's all of a sudden an almighty ruckus from over in one corner. Next thing - fists are flying and chairs & tables are knocked over - and fuck me if there's not a bloody OAP all-in happening!

We left very shortly afterwards but apparently police were called to the club to send people on their way - and the story WAS - that the dead uncle's neighbour had turned up - himself a chap of quite advanced years - and actually had the gumption to ask the dead uncle's brother - at the bloody wake no less - would he mind terribly - to pay him back the $20 (About 12 quid) that the dead fella had borrowed off him a week or so before, as he had been a bit short until pension day. So - as you would - the dead fella's brother responded by telling said neighbour to flamingo off - and throwing the remnants of his beer over him - and it was ON!

The sight of a dozen or so septigenrians and octiginerians arthritically throwing slow motion haymakers at each other and lashing at each other with canes is something that will live with me to my own grave. Truly hilarious!!

...Unfortunately the several funerals I have attended since then have been thoroughly depressing affairs.

So I am considering entering a "Last man standing" clause into my own last will & testament - There's to be a makeshift boxing ring set up at my wake and all comers are welcome to step up and have a go - and settle some old deep-seated family issues with some good old-fashioned fisticuffs in the process! Last man standing gets 25% of whatever I leave behind.

I like to think of it as my own contribution - allbeit posthumously - to some good solid family counselling. You just can't buy that kind of therapy!...Although I think there just MAY be a market for this idea in the US. Somewhere. Probably down South.

But I thought of it first - so hands off you bastards!

Length - Squirm inducing. Girth - slightly rotunder than average. Mea Culpa - please forgive.
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 18:00, Reply)
Grandad's Herbie Funeral Adventure
Me grandad, when he was in the land of the living, was a firm believer of drink-driving. A nasty drunk at the best of times, he regularly drove about 100 yards up the road in his white Voltswagon Beetle and drank in the local, before driving home.

One particular afternoon however, me aged 6 and me parents were visiting gran while he was "pre-disposed" in the pub, and he surpased almost everything he did (except for the one time when he met someone from Corrie Street and asked him if he knew Dai from the Ashkarts, as the actor's character was a dustbin man at the time).

He was driving back to the house, and drunkedly reversed into the wrong parking space in someone else's garden. After hitting something, he realised his mistake and drove back onto the road and down outside his house, where he got out of the car to open the gates to his driveway. We walk outside to greet him, where we are not only greeted back by grandad and Herbie, but a hurse which had coupled itself onto Herbie's back bumper complete with coffin in the back, and loads of people in funeral suits running like fuck down the road towards us. My parents offered help immediately in the form of collapsing on the floor laughing like fuck, while I looked on smiling at one of the wierdest sights of my entire life.

Me grandad in many ways was a fucking legend, mainly by accidental drunken technique over deliberation however.
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 17:28, Reply)
Got a few of these
At me Grandad's wake, I won £25 off a scratchcard.

Awesome :D
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 17:01, Reply)
Short one..
My uncle had the strangest sense of humour of anyone I've ever met (including you b3ta'ans). We had his funeral on Friday 13th =P
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 16:58, Reply)
Ex-Armyman's Funeral
A friend of mine's grandad reached the age of 84, and rather peacefully passed away in his sleep. Twas a nice man, as I'd spoken to him a few times on the way to town, and he'd always made his upmost to speak decently and as politely as possible to me.

I found out the funeral details and promptly attended quietly at the back of the church, right by the aisle. After a few hymns, the vicar gives a speach about how well the turnout was for him, and also about his heroic deeds in the 2nd World War. Apparently this guy used to be a member of the Unexploded Bomb division in Swansea during the blitz, and single-handedly saved hundreds of lives during his time in service. An army representative was called up to give a brief speach about his career record, and thus did so. At the end of his speach, he closed it by announcing for everyone to stand and that the Royal Military Brass Band Representative will now play a song in rememberance. I'm looking down the front, stretching into the aisle to see this, and I can't see this rep nowehere.

The cunt was standing just behind me in the aisle, bugle in hand and lined up about a foot from my right ear.

I fucking shit myself as he started playing, hymn book flying gracefully two rows ahead of me, aptly striking another mourner. The bastard.
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 16:44, Reply)
Went to my
Grandad's funeral and this lady came up to me and said " i did'nt know the man but i know he was a good person if you don't mind how did he die?" To which I replied "The big C" the lady came back with "drowning must have been a terrible death" I made my excuses and left.....
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 16:22, Reply)
Jungless in the place, Jungless on the case, Scooter are you ready
My nethew died in a car crash. He was 8. They played his favourite song at the funeral, Scooter - The Logical Song. Sat there in the funeral with lyrics of scooter blairing out of the loudspeakers and family crying all around me. So very surreal.
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 16:11, Reply)
At a funeral of a old man in Ireland
I was talking to an old lady. I politely enquired how she knew the deceased. She informed me that she knew him a few years ago from around the town.
'He was well loved' I said
'Sure he was, he was a great fookin' roide.' she replied
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 15:55, Reply)
Dad had died... his coffin was brought back to the house...
... so people could pay their last respects.

During the last weeks as he was sedated before dying, visitors were refused access to preserve both his dignity and his memory. It seemed only fair that his friends and further family could visit him at home for one final farewell.

Picture the scene. The close family are gathered around the coffin in the dining room. My brother-in-law tactfully softened the lighting ready for the candles to be brought out.

No-one could say anything. Eventually my brother found the courage to ask "do you think he's up there looking down on us?" a tremble in his voice.

Tears welled in my eyes. My sister remained silent. All eyes turned to the coffin.

And then... amazingly... the lights became incredibly, fiercely bright. In a split second the room was then pitched into absolute darkness.


Then the lights slowly returned to their previous softness.

Mum hopefully looked up to the heavens for another impossible sign from my dear, deceased father... as my brother-in-law, with real fear in his voice announced:

"Sorry everyone... I just leant on the dimmer switch."

Still laughing with him about that a couple of years later. Truly worthy of Frank Spencer.
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 15:48, Reply)
My Funeral/Mates's crap funderal
A friend of mine dies an untimely death a few years ago and his parents organised his funeral. All of us who attended realised that he would have absolutely hated it - although it did probably make his mum & dad feel better. As my current lifestyle almost certainly means I won't reach a grand old age, I've already laid out what I want when I eventually shuffle off. Yes, I want to be made into various bits of diamonds (pity the poor sods who are left behand and have to pay for it, but hey its my funeral) and then auctioned/raffled off down the pub. The only rules are that whoever gets me can't pawn me off down at Cashconverters at the nearest opportunity, and they take me with them whenever they go travelling/have a shag or even just spend a couple of hours down the bookies.
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 15:29, Reply)
the 'lifegem' website
(people that turn your loved one's ashes into a diamond, which you then wear)

The stories about having it done to people made me think 'pah, insincere cloying American rubbish'. Whereas the stories about having it done to pets brought a tear to my eye.

Apologies for length, girth, and misanthropy.
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 14:55, Reply)
I remember a friends funeral a few years ago. He had died of cancer at the tender age of 23, and though we (his friends) had a few wakes for him (which were quite jolly and much the kind of occasion he would have appreciated), the funeral itself was a very grim affair. His parents were obviously devastated and doubly so as he had been an only child, while the vicar had clearly no idea who our friend had been and had cobbled together his words from a few anecdotes his mother had told him.

However one of these anecdotes did provide our group with some light relief. The vicar, hoping to show our friend as a lover of nature, told us a story of a time that his mum had come out into the garden to see him with his camera case on the grass. She had asked him what he was doing and he had told her he was photographing butterflies.

However we knew that he used hi camera case to keep his ganj in and she had obviously just caught him skinning up a fat one... we managed to restrain the giggles until later, but that story became a firm part of his legend! Lord love ya, B. mate!
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 14:53, Reply)
Just remembered another one
My mum was great friends with her dad's cousin, who she had stayed with in Canada when she was 17. Now I'd only met this relative twice, and as she was very old (had her 100th birthday in March)the only words she ever spoke to me were "I don't know who you are, but you can get out of my house", so naturally I hadn't got much compassion when she passed away a few months later.
I still had to go to the funeral though, which meant us leaving at 7am to drive the 3hours it took to the crematorium. Fortunately, I had been out for a few jars the night before and when I woke up at god-knows o'clock I was still pissed. Half dressed meself and got in the car. The parents didn't know I was still drunk until we stopped at a services on the way there to get some breakfast. Whilst deciding whether to eat or not, my sister asked if there would be food when they got there. Still half-cut I replied loudly with "Yeah, there's going to be a barbeque!"
Mum was not happy. Dad was pissing himself laughing. I was not talked to by the mother all day. Suited me fine.

And I over indulged on the "wine" they were serving at the wake, and felt it neccessary to point out that the cheapskate bastards were serving us Lambrini.
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 14:30, Reply)
My Uncle Frank
A few years ago my dad's best mate, Frank had been kind enough to pop his clogs. As he was only 45 at the time it wasn't the best news for us to recieve as we all loved him dearly (hence the UNCLE thing, he's not a spy).

The death itself was spectacular. Out in a bar one night, enjOying a few pints, someone starts telling jokes. Well, one was so funny it killed him. The poor bugger couldn't stop laughing, and when he did....well, that was it. (NB i don't know the joke, neither me or my dad were there...probably a good thing i don't know it although i do now live in fear of hearing it when not prepared. I'm only 23 dammit.)

Anyway...back to the funeral.

Frank was a big chap. By big though, i mean BIG. Y'know, tall, well built etc. Thankfully my dad, who is equally big, was one of the pall bearers.

Now, you'd have to know both Frank and my dad to understand how he got away with this, but the important thing is that he did.

My old man hoiks the coffin up onto his shoulders with the other pall bearers in front of a sea of mourners only to find himself blurting out....with no hint of subtlety...."Jesus Frank, you fat, dead bastard."

After that there was a stunned silence. Thankfully within minutes the whole group fell about laughing. With my dad white as a sheet! With his composure restored the solemn walk into the crematoriom commenced.

Then we got Frank inside, only to go through the whole ceremony with a lithpy vicar. To this day i have no idea what that ceremony was about.
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 14:27, Reply)
Funeral For A Friend
Well, a friend's Dad actually. Some years ago now, a friend's father died after a long battle with Cancer, and all her friends attended his funeral. He'd been in the police force for all his working life, and the most moving thing was when 40 uniformed officers made a procession with his coffin, and then saluted it as it went off for the enterrment.
Seeing my friends with tears in their eyes is normally an event that only happens after I've dropped a particularly potent fart in the vicinity.
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 14:15, Reply)
Me and Mrs Eddache prior to my Grandma's funeral:
Me - It's a bit cold out. Did you think I should wear a jumper, or will that look silly with the suit?
Her - Don't worry, it'll be warm in the crematorium.

It took her a while to realise what she had just said.
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 14:04, Reply)
I suppose it's not that funny
but at my mum's birth mother's funeral (she'd become a nun and my mum had traced her a few years before her death) we were in the main car with her brothers, who'd had no idea about my mum until the funeral itself. At the cemetary I was last to get into the car, but the driver started moving when I was halfway in, so there I was half-hopping, half being dragged long by a funeral car full of strangers, shouting to the driver who couldn't hear me through the glass partition. Thankfully one of the occupants chapped on the glass and the driver stopped. It really broke the ice though as everyone had a laugh and got to talking about how my mum had come along - it seems her mother had told her family she'd gone to have her appendix out. The eldest brother looked my mum up and down and said with a laugh, "some appendix!"
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 14:01, Reply)
One moment's applause....
A friend of mine involved in the comedy scene died a few months ago, after being diagnosed with a brain tumour. I know a lot of people say that they 'don't want people to be miserable' but that's not always the way it ends up.

However, at this one, it was a 'Humanist' service (non-religious) so it wasn't at a church. He had requested that, instead of mourning, and a depressing eulogy, that people that knew him share funny stories and anecdotes about him. It was a lovely way to send him off.

However, the most moving part of the ceremony was when, as the curtain drew in front of his coffin, instead of the mournful silence, his wife had requested that we gave him his final applause. Cue an incredible amount of clapping and cheering, a standing ovation for him as a final way to say goodbye.

It might seem a strange thing to do, but for me, it stands out as one of the most poignant and moving things I've ever witnessed in my life.
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 14:00, Reply)
Funeral hotrod
On the way to the crematorium for my Mum's funeral, the hearse, the limo and all the cars following were passed by the usual inconsiderate bastards who couldn't wait and had no respect.

Some time later we realised that the funeral procession was itself stuck behind an aged truck going very slowly and we were going to be late for the service. So all of us, Mum in the hearse, us in the limo and all of our followers had to overtake the crappy little truck and zip along to the crematorium a lot faster than is normal for such events.

Typical for my Mum.
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 13:56, Reply)
The right size would have helped
I play the bagpipes so being Scottish I get to play at my fair share of funerals but one spings instantly to mind.

It was a mates, sisters, boyfriends uncle or something and they wanted Amazing Grace as they got planted. Everyone gathered round the coffin in a way so I couldn't actually see. The person was going in with someone also.

So I started playing when I heard the undertaker telling them to lift the coffin and I wait to see the people stand back in order to stop. So I'm playing...playing...still playing, I lean while playing to one side and notice the coffin's still there. Thinking some little hitch I kept playing then finally gave up. Everyone was thanked for coming etc and we all drove away...with the coffin still sitting there. The grave diggers had failed to check the coffin dimensions and had actually not made the hole big enough.

Driving away to see this coffin sitting there and these emarressed grave diggers around it still raises a cheeky smile from me.
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 13:49, Reply)
I will be stipulating in my will that I want to be cremated.
Our cat is getting on and my partner wants to have him skinned and his skeleton set and mounted. This has led to him promising to do the same to me should I shuffle my coil first. I have a mental picture of my skeleton sat in the corner of our lounge, cat in lap, hand poised above in a stroking motion. I'm not particularly sentimental about my death, but I refuse to be reduced to a dinner party annecdote.
Apologies if my first post converges on the horizon.
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 13:20, Reply)
RIP Fush
When our beloved goldfish Fush finally glooped his last Mr weebear and I couldn't bear to send him to the great U-bend in the sky and decided to give him a proper burial.

We wrapped him in spring flowers and Bounty kitchen roll and laid him to rest in the communal gardens where we live. Somewhat embarrassed about being such a pair of anthropomorphic soft twunts, however, we decided to do it under the cover of darkness.

Upon covering him up, we decided to put some small rocks on the top of the grave to mark it. Mr weebear scrabbled about a bit under a tree for a few and spotted a particularly fine large pebble to crown Fush's final resting place. On picking it up, it was suprisingly light and, well, chalky.

It was an enormous white dog shit. Who says you don't see it any more, eh?

Spoiled the service a bit.
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 13:15, Reply)
Gangsta rap
I was heavily into gansta rap at the age of 14 (1994) when my grandfather died. My mother gave me some money to buy new clothes for the funeral.

I went dressed like a really bad white imitation of one of the Wu tang clan.

Im sure he would have thought it was funny god rest his soul (although my parents didnt)
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 13:01, Reply)
My sister died last year, I was very close to her and her slow death over six months was enormously upsetting. Her friends were generally a rather intense and sentimental lot, whilst me and my brother believe that sentiment is for people who are too witless to have their own thoughts & feelings. We approached evrything with humour wherever possible, and grim humour if we could possibly get away with it.

My sister had a humanist funeral. I found the service almost unbearably distressing, and I had an overwhelming panicky feeling when the loony looking woman who ran it announced we were all going to have a minute's silence for our own thoughts. I really thought I was going to break down uncontrollably, when my brother leaned over and asked me if I was OK. I nodded and bit my lip.

He then said sotto voce in a silent and packed crematorium, "You know, I reckon you've time for a quick wank."

That saved my sanity for the whole day. Because we were close family no-one dared to make anything of it.

I am 42 my brother is 54.
(, Fri 12 May 2006, 12:56, Reply)

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