Third leg

Another funeral to play for today, though I’d have gone to it in any case.  I didn’t know Norman well, but he was a lovely man.  His mother lived in the village – so had he at one time – and was renowned for once, being the railway crossing keeper, flagging down a train and preventing an accident, rather in Railway Children style.  Norman’s wife Jenny died horribly early in her early sixties and I met him several times at that period. They had got married when she was 18 and he was 22 – early marriage is out of fashion nowadays, but those of my friends who married young seem to have done quite as well as those who left it until later.

I’m pleased that Andy will be able to take over funeral organist duties again.  I hope I take a professional attitude but I find it emotionally very difficult at times.  Today, although I played for fifteen minutes or so before the service, I didn’t need to play as the coffin was brought into the church and taken out again because Norman had chosen music to be played from CDs.  So I was sitting there when the undertakers came to take the coffin out.  Two family members wanted to take their part and so some care had to be taken that all went smoothly, and it was when – I don’t know why – the pallbearers had the coffin securely on their shoulders and one said “Right, gentlemen,” to start them going when  I had to turn away – the organ is at the altar end of the church, by the choir stalls (we don’t have a choir) and I’m in full view and tears were running down my face.  The last couple of years, I’ve been so over-emotional and I wish I could get over it.

Anyway, after that I took the dog for a walk and he had a lovely splash in the river, I had a short sleep, I took him out again – oh, having had a chat with Wink on the phone in the meantime – and then went out for a meeting.  There was wine and food afterwards and I had chatted to various people and was about to leave when I had a phone call from a lugubrious Sage, whose own meeting had gone on a lot longer than he’d expected so was only just home, but had found that he’d left his keys in the house.  He hadn’t eaten, so I made him a swift tomato and cheese omelette with salad, which he ate with a packet of crisps and a glass of cider.  He was perfectly happy with that and it makes me wonder why I spend an hour or two cooking every night when ten minutes seems to do just as well.

Tomorrow, friend Brian is coming round for coffee – I’ve a feeling I know what he wants to talk about and that I won’t really want to hear it – and then meetings in the afternoon.  But then Friday is free, so I might go and visit a friend who has broken her leg.  Yes, another friend, this isn’t Gill or Andy.  Still, things go in threes they say, so let’s hope that’s it.

3 comments on “Third leg

  1. Z

    Well, I was wrong, it wasn’t what I thought it would be. In fact, it was a very useful discussion (as well as a nice, friendly chat) and I can tick another box as a result.


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