Funeral garb
Mar. 19th, 2008 12:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
todayiamadaisyI tripped over my sandals last night, while I was wearing them. Very clever, I know. Anyway, while I was doing that I felt something go "pop!" in my left calf and now I've got a sore leg and a limp. Some people climb mountains and cross deserts; I get injured wearing shoes. Hmph.
This morning I went to the funeral of my favourite great-uncle. Such a lovely man, Uncle Stuart. He was the youngest of my grandfather's brothers and married quite late in life, so his children are only slightly older than me. Teachers at school often thought I was the youngest of the Daisyname sisters instead of their cousin. Even today, I had several strangers ask me if I was one of Stuart's daughters as they leaned in to hug me. So, um, family resemblance, yes.
My mother gets on well enough with her brothers, but one of them lives interstate and the other is married to a woman who hates both my mother and I. She positively (or negatively, rather) radiates dislike in our presence. She was all over the cousins and other assorted relatives today, being so chummy and chatty with them, and then she saw me and said, "Alicia" and moved off. I'd be offended if I could be bothered.
I was thinking today as I watched everyone waiting to get out of the church that films and TV never get funeral attendees right. They only ever show a handful of people at the ceremony, comprising immediate family and maybe a few friends (and/or murder suspects, if it's that sort of film), and every single one of them is dressed in black. I've never been to a funeral like that. Today the church was filled with all sorts of people: immediate family, extended family, friends, fellow WWII veterans, former work colleagues, the medical staff who looked after him. Only two people were wearing all black (and both of them fall into categories of people who wear black anyway).
This morning I went to the funeral of my favourite great-uncle. Such a lovely man, Uncle Stuart. He was the youngest of my grandfather's brothers and married quite late in life, so his children are only slightly older than me. Teachers at school often thought I was the youngest of the Daisyname sisters instead of their cousin. Even today, I had several strangers ask me if I was one of Stuart's daughters as they leaned in to hug me. So, um, family resemblance, yes.
My mother gets on well enough with her brothers, but one of them lives interstate and the other is married to a woman who hates both my mother and I. She positively (or negatively, rather) radiates dislike in our presence. She was all over the cousins and other assorted relatives today, being so chummy and chatty with them, and then she saw me and said, "Alicia" and moved off. I'd be offended if I could be bothered.
I was thinking today as I watched everyone waiting to get out of the church that films and TV never get funeral attendees right. They only ever show a handful of people at the ceremony, comprising immediate family and maybe a few friends (and/or murder suspects, if it's that sort of film), and every single one of them is dressed in black. I've never been to a funeral like that. Today the church was filled with all sorts of people: immediate family, extended family, friends, fellow WWII veterans, former work colleagues, the medical staff who looked after him. Only two people were wearing all black (and both of them fall into categories of people who wear black anyway).