Funeral in Berlin

Ok..It wasnt a funeral in Berlin. It was a funeral in Barnsley, Cudworth to be exact. I didn’t see any crazy Russian generals either (Eeeenglish) but no matter. The funeral was very sad and there must have been about 150 people there.

Brian was taken by horse and carriage (like proper black horses with them frilly feather jobbies towing a glass hearse thing) to the church and there was a large procession. The local paper, Wakefield Express, had published an article on Brian and all the hard work he had done for the disruptive children at his school (He was what is known as an “inclusion” manager. If you are a difficult naughty boy or girl at school you are normally kicked out, however in Brian’s school you weren’t; you had special “inclusion” sessions with Brian and his team of teachers. Many a time you would be out with Brian and some shemp would come up to Brian, shake his hand and say “If it wasn’t for you I’d be full of drughz and selling my bottom for cheese on Ilkley Moor (Ba’htat) Instead I am now managing director of the Coal board” or something along those lines.). Brian was a much loved teacher and so the school he worked at closed for the day so that all the teachers could attend the funeral. Which I thought was a lovely gesture.

The erm…celebrant (not sure if he was a vicar, parson or what-not, my knowledge of ecumenical celebrations is limited to Roman Catholic) read out some general stuff about Brian and some things about him I never knew, then Brian’s work friend gave a long speech about what a fantastic and much loved bloke Brian was followed by the blessing of the coffin and the Green Green Grass of Home (which everyone recalled was what he sung at his wedding a la karaoke) There wasn’t a dry eye in the house it was very sad. I’m not much good with death and funerals. I never know what to say to people or where to look and I’m very self concious about showing emotion. To be honest I only go to funerals because it is expected of me if I had the choice I would pay my respects in my own way rather than in some group mourning session…call me weird but that’s the way I am.

Anyway, after he was planted in the ground, we all piled back to Brian’s house and there was a fantastic wake which was held in the garden. It was lovely listening to all the fond memories people had about Brian and lovely to see so many people paying their respects. Brian would have felt honoured.

Author: stegzy

Once, long ago, I wrote frequently on Livejournal. I then moved to Blogspot, where I discovered that blogging requires an audience. So I moved back to LJ. Then over to Dreamwidth, back to LJ, up the road of self hosting with Muckybadger before giving up entirely and moving over to Wordpress. It was at that moment I decided I would spread my compostual nonsense simultaneously across the blogosphere like some rancid margarine. And so here I am. I am a badger. But then I'm not really a badger. I am a human. With badger like tendencies. I am a writer, a film producer and a social commentator. I am available for Breakfast TV shows, documentaries and chats in the pub with journalists where I am more than qualified enough to talk confidently about absolute shite and bollocks.

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