I went to a funeral this week. Technically, it was sort of a relative, but not close enough that I would've went if I hadn't been in the area when he died and staying with someone who was going.
I'll call the bloke I've been staying with Uncle Stumpy, even though he isn't technically an uncle. (I'm pretty sure he's my Dad's first cousin, but anyway, that's not really important). Stumpy lives in a "house-ified" kit-shed on a property owned by a bloke I'll call Uncle Woolly (who's Stumpy's actual uncle). Stumpy's been working for Woolly most of his life and has been living in the shed for the last thirty or so years (I believe he upgraded from a much shittier shed when he married).
Anyway, Woolly's been in the process of dying for a while, and it just happened that during my stay with Stumpy and his missus (The shed's actually quite nice), he finally passed on.
The funeral was a simple, straight-forward affair: A small outback cemetery surrounded by gumtrees. A few folding chairs for the oldies. The opening line from his daughter's speech was, "A lot of people thought Dad was a mad bastard ... and he was". At one point, two hawks landed on the ground and squawked loudly at each other. One old bloke quipped that they were probably fighting over the body. They buried him with his hat. Afterwards, there were sandwiches at the pub.
And since nobody knew what the future of the property was, Stumpy decided to pull up stumps and move on. I've spent the last few days giving him a hand turn his family home into piles of fibro & colourbond sheeting, and load it onto the back of a truck.
I know that in one respect we're comparing a human life to a cheap kit-shed, but I honestly dunno which part of the whole thing has made me feel the most melancholic.
2 comments :
I don't think you need a formula, Stumpy and Woolly are fine.
I love the daughter's opening line. Pretty much the same as my aunt's at her ex-husband's, but she used the word 'bugger'.
SO the whole house got packed up? Where's he going? I think that's the sad bit, that so quickly it's all been moved on... or maybe it was the sandwiches that made you melancholy. I'd be wanting something a little more substantial.
But anyway, you're a good 'sort of niece' to help him.
But anyway, you're a good 'sort of niece' to help him.
Funny, I never even thought of it that way. I suppose that theoretically I could have pissed off and left him to it, but that never really occurred to me.
Yes it's all gone. All but the concrete slab it was sitting on. I don't know where he's going; and judging by the fact that every time the topic came up he seemed to come up with something different, I'd wager that he didn't have much of an idea either. Maybe that really is the sad bit.
The sangas were actually pretty decent. Fairly certain it wasn't them.
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