The day of the Old Man’s funeral.
The service was taken by Oliver Armitage, a curate of my acquaintance.
Harry did not attend, but two people from the Sunlit Uplands golf club did attend. One of them told me that his daughter, the first person in her family to go to university, had been a student at Cambridge.
The Old Man’s former colleague Mr MD also attended. I hadn’t seen him for many years, and reminded him of the party he and his wife and the Old Man and the Deceased Lady and I had attended on (I think) Boxing Day of 1981. Probably I hadn’t seen him since then.
I asked the funeral director to send the spray of flowers to Eastwood Priory, for Francesca or whichever staff nurse was on duty.
After the funeral, cousin Y and her husband O, and L the son of the Old Man’s nephew C, came back to the Old Man’s house and we talked for an hour or two.
L has put on a lot of weight in recent years. I always think of him as being young, but he is now 50. He remarked that when he and his sister were in primary school, each Friday evening their parents put them on an express bus to a nearby town, to visit their grandmother. L said he would not do that with his children. I suggested that if anyone did such a thing nowadays, “Social Services would be called in.” At this, L laughed.
[Original posting 10 January 2012]