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Dad’s funeral.
I guess it should have been a sad day. I feel awful saying this, but it wasn’t, it gave me the biggest laugh of the year. Probably the biggest laugh of my life. Dad would literally have died again if he’d seen what happened the day of his funeral. As it was, he was probably whizzing around in his coffin, making himself dizzy.
Oh God. I felt so sorry for Mammy in the graveyard. Poor Daddy dead, Mammy and me crying and Maggie having a good look around to see who’d turned up.
That’s the way Maggie is, she never cries over things. She’s strong, just gets on with life. Anyhow, there we were, the three of us in the graveyard all holding onto each other, the rain coming down in buckets and everybody muttering their responses to the priest’s prayers. And then . . .
And then, a huge gust of wind from out of nowhere blows the feckin’ priest right in on top of the coffin. Oh God, it was a bit of a shock. The thump of him as he landed on top of Dad. For a few seconds everybody was stunned. And the priest was mortified and he tried to clamber out of the hole but he’s only a small guy so two lads, Dick, who’s Pam’s fella and Jason, who was my fella at the time, go to haul him out and. . .
Poor Dick fell in on top of the priest. He was furious. I could see it in his face. I knew he’d think it was just another bad day mixing with my family. I felt sick and sort of responsible. I wanted to try and get him out but others were doing it. And besides, poor Maggie was shaking so much I had to stay with her.
I never laughed so much in my life. The state of pompous auld Dick covered in muck. His suit’d never recover. The only one I felt sorry for was Mam. She was white.
Mam wouldn’t talk about it after. I wouldn’t blame her. It was the worst, most humiliating experience of all our lives.