Netty

I was in a bit of a flap, last night, before setting for the Minx's; I couldn't find my funeral suit or tie anywhere. I suppose, on balance, that's a good thing, a symptom of how rarely I have to wear it. 

I needed it for today, though, so I found charcoal suit and brought that instead, and then, first thing this morning, I went out and bought a tie. While I was doing that, the Minx finished her display of family photographs, celebrating the life of her grandmother who passed away recently. Unsurprisingly, she made a beautiful job of it.

Maybe it's a feature of couples who aren't married, maybe it's just me and the Minx, but we don't see that much of one another's extended family, although I very much enjoy the occasional meals that we have with the Minx's mum. I guess I met the Minx's grandmother, Netty, once, possibly twice, although I knew of her - and how well loved she was - by reputation. 

And a few nights ago, the Minx showed me her granddad's photo albums from when he was in Asia in the navy, including some photos of Hong Kong, where I spent part of my childhood. Then she showed me her grandmother's photos of her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren, who were clearly very precious to her. 

All this was reflected at the church, where her thirty-five children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren were gathered along with their partners, as well as Netty's friends and acquaintance. I'm not sure I've ever been at a funeral where there has been so much love and sadness in evidence.

The Minx and her cousin delivered the eulogy, which was both delightful and deeply moving (not least for them as they read it). And after the burial we went to a local pub for the wake where even if the sadness of the occasion wasn't forgotten, it was blended with plenty of stories and a lot of joy. May we all get a funeral like that one.

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-10.7 kgs
Reading: 'Middle England' by Jonathan Coe.