A thin sabre of light pierces the shade, and my heart beats a little faster at the thought of a sunshine day. My eyes are awake but my mind is still in that world of never land that we call drowsy. Slowly the old brain begins to reflect the real world and I realize that it’s still dark and my heart beating sabre of light is in actual fact Alec’s Land-rover headlights, he’s the geezer that lives across the road and it’s still pissing with rain! Oh well it was good while it lasted.
When I was a nipper my mum (remember her?) she used to let me stay home from school to keep her company. I look at the Princess and wonder if it’s worth asking. Then I realise that it isn’t, so I head for the shower because I can’t be bothered doing my Pilates exercises this morning. In the shower my brain becomes a little more alert and I remember that today I’m taking my aged sister and brother-in-law to a funeral. In Stockport, that’s in Cheshire and about 100 miles away.
He wanted to drive, well he’s only 85 so why not, except he doesn’t like the Sat Nav. We ignore the aforementioned device and add 20 miles to our journey, but they’re old and we’d set off an hour before we had to, so plenty of time. The rest of the day unfolded in much the same way. She dropped a glove on the way out of the Crematorium, I quickly picked it only to find the other one was missing when we got outside. She’d left that one on the pew. Have you ever tried to fight your way back into a horde of people departing a Crematorium? Only then to fight your way back out again? They hadn’t remembered my entrance and so (by the look on their faces) assumed I was trying to dodge the collection. As we careered our way to the funeral tea, dear sis realised that she’d left her handbag behind. Luckily he hadn’t heard her cry of exclamation, so a 3-point turn upon the dual carriageway was avoided as I heard the second exclamation stating that she had found said handbag in the footwell.
The meal was lovely but surrounded by two deaf people, who don’t like hearing aids, it was a little repetitious. My auntie joined us (also deaf) and not really an auntie. Her mother was a friend of my grandmother and they all got intertwined somehow. To give you a little taste of my afternoon, here is one of the conversations:
Auntie to brother-in-law, “I hope you have a good run back to Yorkshire.”
Me to Auntie, “I hope he’s not running back, I was hoping for a lift in the car, haha”
Auntie to me. ” No, thank you, Charles (they all call me that) I’m getting a lift with David.”
These were very astute people a few years ago. They could party all night and still be compos mentis (that’s Latin, who needs Eton when you have Google), so I think I might just carry on smoking and possibly even drink more to save me from old age! 😂😂