Friday 28th February 2019

Meg's funeral.

We had been dreading this day since we heard that Meg had died. As this was when it all became real. And not sure how our minds would cope with that.

And it meant probably having to deal with Meg's Mother, Julie. Julie is just evil. I use that term wisely. And I have given it thought and I still think it is the right term. My first two wives had their problems and baggage, but nothing compared to Julie. Julie is just hateful, she sneers and scorns everyone and everything else. Maybe she doesn't realise she does it, but she does it.

And I have never heard her have a good word to say about anyone, or anything. Saying that, I had only met her twice before: Once when we first bought our house in St Maggies, where upon us telling her where the house was were informed that "that's not really St Margaret;s, that the Nelson Park ESTATE". And the second time was when we went to pick up Me's belongings from London where after one outburst too many from her, I stopped the car and threatened to throw her out if she did not shut up.

Thankfully, the limousine was full so we would not have to share that space with her, and for the rest, we should be able to avoid her.

Anyway, those were our thoughts and worries.

After getting up and having coffee, we went out for a walk as the sun was shining, then it should have been cloudy, but was cool in the breeze.

I was looking for wild flowers, and the new memorial to a crashed USAF plane from the second world war. We found that and a few flowers in bloom too, but not too many.

We went up Station Road, then along one of the bridleways for about a mile, until we turned south and headed for home. We saw a few cold and lonely horses, so we stopped to stroke them and ruffle their manes.

Back home we have another coffee then just wait until it was time to get ready. It was to be a celebration, not a morose occasion, and as Meg's favourite colour was blue, so most would wear blue. I put on dark trousers and a black jumper.

I guessed with Meg being so young, and popular, there would be many people who wanted to attend, and parking would be at a premium, so we left at eleven, driving onto the A2 then to Denton to the crematorium. There were spaces, so we reversed into one, and began to wait. See who was going to turn up.

We thought there must have been another funeral before Meg's, as people were turning up, waiting around, greeting others they knew. But time ticked past half eleven, and it became clear they were here for Meg too.

As it neared midday, more and more people came, all parking spaces had long gone and people were parking in the grass, on the road outside, wherever they could. And outside the crematorium, people were gathering, waiting. I have no idea, but there must have been over 200, and more were coming, looking for places to park. So by the time noon came, there must have been 300.

The hearse came and the family car behind.

We all parted as it came to a stop outside the entrance, and Mike, his friend Barry, George and someone else were briefed on carrying the coffin.

Once they had shouldered Meg, they went inside, and we followed. We all followed. Soon all seating was taken, and the balcony, so people began to stand in the aisle, in the passage way to the garden of rememberance. And the entrance hall, and outside.

And it began.

Not a religious ceremony. Music and loving words, a list of her achievements. The Lord's prayer. And goodbye.

We filed out, then mingled as people looked at the flowers, greeted long lost friends.

There was a reception, not a wake, really, at the big hotel on the promenade. So, we all got in our cars, queued to get out onto the main road, then back to Dover to park on the seafront and walk to the hotel.

Despite being her family, we knew very few others there. We did not want to drink. And neither of us wanted to eat from the finger buffet.

We stood round, had a coffee, spoke to Cath, and then made our excuses and left.

Back home, back to our lives, and reflecting on what had passed these past four weeks.

Later we have dinner, then listen to the radio, quietly.

Not much else to say, really. It was one hell of a day, and not one I would want to repeat.