I attended a funeral today. Normally I wouldn’t post such private events of others on here however the event was significantly different that I wanted to mention some details.
Firstly, the funeral was held in the Adelaide Crows Football Club Rooms. This is apt as Australian Rules Football (of which the Crows are a team) is a form of religion over here. The power of the game enraptures people and it makes sense that for this man, an agnostic whose sporting passion was this team, held his final moments in their presence.
This gave a unique spin to the funeral and it’s wake. Below the area where the service was held was a massive open area gymnasium where, presumably, players practice their kicking when its raining. (?? – no idea. I don’t have a sporting bone in my body) This allowed the children and their suited parents to kick footballs to each other after the service.
Children were invited and well catered for. The large open area allowed a group of dedicated people to sit with all of the children ( if they wanted) and do artwork with the arts and crafts provided. This turned out to be a stunning idea.
As a result of this, it was the first funeral I have ever been to where I held a teddy bear throughout (the teddy in question, Georgie, belonged to my niece and was abandoned with gusto when she realised there were better toys on offer.) Teddy Bears at funerals are curiously beneficial. People may have looked at the bearded guy in the suit holding the teddy with curiosity but you could tell they were jealous they hadn’t thought of it.
Adelaide is an incredibly small town where the degrees of separation are two instead of six. After the service I met up with a friend of mine, Michael, who makes my feeble attempts at maintaining friendships look herculean. Michael has been in town for two years and not contacted me.
Ever.
Michael, a doctor turned Catholic priest, (as you do), was then beaten up with Georgie for a full five minutes for being a crap friend.
I do not cry at funerals. As anyone who knows me this is not for a lack of sensitivity on my part. Just a weird quirk that it is the one time I am stoic. However today, while I watched a three-year old girl playing with her friends making art and bubbles, laughing and chatting happily at the same time as her father was having his eulogy delivered, and her without a care in the world…God love her……I got teary.
Please dear, make no apologies for not crying at funerals. I’m much the same. Too stoic. Especially at funerals. I guess I used up my allotment of tears, mostly tears of frustration, while I was recovering from my bone marrow transplant. Otherwise, don’t seem to have any left.
And don’t ever let anyone question your lack of tears either.