A brief post and a comedy moment.

Well, after my last rant about needing more work, I've had it coming out of my ears!

I've now done a total of 55 funerals, with two booked for this week.

I still can't get used to the unpredictable nature of this work (I've always had "steady", boring jobs), but that's the nature of the beast.

This will be a short post, as I haven't much to say just now, but I did have a lovely comedy moment.

We had the ceremony of a much loved and elderly gentleman. He was a solid sort of chap who, in his peak had looked after three allotments at once and fed the family all summer. His daughter chose Kipling's "The Glory of the Garden" (I have a slightly adapted version, taking the god out of it) to be read. The deceased's grandson read the poem very clearly and it was well received.

Afterwards, standing at the flower terrace (I always hang around afterwards, having been disgusted at a family funeral once by the vicar being in his car and half way down the drive before we'd even read the card on the floral tribute), I congratulated the grandson on his delivery of the poem.

A lady came up to him and started to speak, so I stepped slightly to one side. She then came up to me and asked "And who are you?"

"I conducted the ceremony."

"Oh yes, of course you did".

Being a giggler, I was actually proud that I didn't burst out laughing. In fairness, this lady's vision is not strong, but once she heard my voice, she recognised me.

To be honest, I found it funny, as I had been standing there for the best part of half an hour, rattling on about life, the universe, everything and, of course, the dear departed.

However, I was really pleased that she hadn't realised who I was. It doesn't matter who I am (unless someone wants a celebrant, then my name can be emblazoned in big letters). It matters who the deceased was, and it matters that we gave him a meaningful and appropriate send off.

I often think "it's not about you" when I meet family members, but I certainly think that about my own part in the proceedings.

A while ago I met someone, through some other work that I do and he was talking about his good friend who had died last year. I pieced bits of the conversation together and realised that this had been my fourth funeral. The chap I'd met hadn't recognised me at all, but he remembered what a good funeral it was.

Job done.