The Service for the man I called my ‘Uncle Les’

Yesterday conducting the Service for the dear family friend, who I have called my ‘Uncle Les’ was a very proud day for me.

I could not write about the day (only in prose) last night as I was mentally and physically drained.

I arrived at 12:15 with mum in toe (I had to collect her) as my brother had to remain home with Pop to look after him. For those following Pop – he’s feeling much better.

The FD Assistant also a Celebrant took me under her wing – she was lovely. I told her it was only my second service and she said it takes ‘guts’ to do it for someone you know.

The entrance song was Josh Groban – To where you are – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MHStYNXnOH4 – this song gets me EVERY TIME.

I read the Eulogy, the family liked two of my poems that I wrote, so I read them, I recited the Lords Prayer by family request. I called their son up to speak, then his mum, who was very brave and read a few lines of love. It was tough when I was reading and looking up at the family who were crying and I had to concentrate on looking at others to get through.

I had to read a piece that Pop had written – I did well to the last lines – “I have lost a good mate…” I started to break and excused myself to have a drink of water, then forged on.

The reflection was beautiful, they played two songs country and western John Williamson’s ‘True Blue’ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cohkaLM3AjQ and Slim Dusty’s “Don’t laugh in the face of Father Time – which I cannot find on youtube.

Whilst True Blue was being sung, some of the Assembly started singing the words. I wanted to get up and say if you know the words – please sing along, as it was truly a beautiful moment.

I then asked everyone to stand for the committal and final words. I read, and the final song chosen by his wife was “We’ll meet Again” – Vera Lyn https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cHcunREYzNY which she started (and mum) to sing.

I stood facing his coffin as they took off his guitar that he played and his medals and photos, his coffin being placed under a large skylight, I looked up into the sky and then I broke.

I then had to lead the hearse out with family members walking him, tears blinding my way to the front door.

I walked up to the open hearse and kissed his coffin and stood back for the family to say their final good-byes. As I stood a gentleman came up and took my hand and told me what a beautiful service, then inside another gentleman, you don’t know me, but that was the most beautiful service and you are such a natural. I was blushing, I had such warm and fuzzies. The compliments continued, I couldn’t believe it.

I write this not to brag/boast or pat myself on the back. I write this for you to be along side me on this journey. The family were so happy and told me how proud of me they were… THAT is what this is all about. Having those who have lost a loved one – come away feeling special, that their loved one’s goodbye was memorable and that they were happy with what I read and did for them.

A day that shall always be remembered by me.

 

PS: They had the service recorded, I have asked for a copy – so I can see if anything should be changed oh…and also to show Pop and the rest of the family that weren’t able to attend.

 

thank you for reading and being part of my journey

xx

Bring out your dead – Fiction Prose

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Winter solstice

crisp air stung as darkness fell

lantern lit hung on burial spade

its job to dig

the pit

coffin raw in state bore no brass or copper handles

… rough sawn timber to conceal the dead

family mourned

waited for the driver dressed in black

with his horse to cart their dead away

…he the suffering witness to tears in grief

women on bended knees scream out

her name

– 1848 –

the sickness hit …bodies fell

prevent the germs from spreading

pulse weak hot bread on soles of feet

reaction none ….pronounced dead

burial must be quick

white and drained of colour

lain not on satin but threadbare cloth

they lifted her…. to hearse

gathered to walk the streets

listen to the iron wheels the sounds of hooves

her whispers could not be heard amongst their wails

I did not die I am alive

……she cried beside them

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

150 words or less of Fiction For Angela Geoff  and

VisDare 21: Diverge

Thank you again for a wonderful photo prompt this week Angela.  Forgive the macabre. 113 words.