Funeral Blues

Always go to other people's funerals, otherwise they won't come to yours.
Yogi Berra

Too true, too true. I will not get maudlin and depressing on you, but the funeral was yesterday. Not as awful as I thought it would be, with the family politics involved (not mine, I hasten to add), but sad none the less. Weirdly I kept looking for Molly, I expected to see her there. But there were two things she would have loved. First of all it took me, mum and Patrick three attempts to find the wake - and we used to live in Teddington. The Groome sense of direction is ever present, and would have made her smile. The second is that the vicar was still wearing his bicycle clips... Which would have made her laugh out loud. It was those things that made it bearable.

This is the poem which was read out by Molly's daughter; I liked it , so I thought I'd post it here:

I am standing on the sea shore,

A ship sails in the morning breeze and starts for the ocean.

She is an object of beauty and I stand watching her

Till at last she fades on the horizon and someone at my side says:

"She is gone."

Gone! Where?

Gone from my sight -m that is all.

She is just as large in the masts, hull and spars as she was when I saw her

And just as able to bear her load of living freight to its destination.

The diminished size and total loss of sight is in me,

not in her.

And just at the moment when someone at my side says,

"She is gone",

There are others who are watching her coming, and other voices take up a glad shout:

"There she comes"

- and that is dying. An horizon and just the limit of our sight.

Lift us up, Oh Lord, that we may see further.

Bishop Brent

Mixed feelings

It's been a funny weekend.

Saturday I was at Henley Royal Regatta with Phil. Thankfully the weather was gorgeous, and the Pimms was flowing freely. We sat in deckchairs and watched a token amount of rowing, and general went "Rah rah rah" and pretended to be posh.

My feet were killing me by the end of the day, so I might try to find some flat shoes for when I recreate the same outfit for a wedding in a few weeks time - I really do have to get my money's worth from it!!

There was an early disaster however. At Twyford train station I spotted not one, but TWO girls in the same dress. Phil didn't quite understand the enormity of this situation. Anyway, when I bumped into one of the women later on, we were very mature (no cat fights in the mud, you'll be pleased to hear) and just smiled and said "Nice dress!". A good time was had by all.

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Two good things in tennis this weekend - our first British champion for 20 years, and Roger Federer's 5th win. He really deserves it, I'm very pleased for him. He plays gorgeous tennis. And, well if a Murray had to win Wimbledon, I'm glad it was Jamie, not Andy Murray! A much nicer chap all round, though I was annoyed on his behalf that his brother only "just" managed to make it to the match. Hmm. Family solidarity etc etc...

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And finally. We found out yesterday that an old family friend died on Saturday. Molly was my next door neighbour when I was born, so I have literally known her all my life. When I was a baby and screamed the house down, mum (or dad in those days) would pass me through the trellis to Molly or her husband Reg and they would look after me to give my parents a break. The trellis is still standing, and it was always mentioned whenever I went to see Molly, which wasn't often enough.

Molly remembered every birthday, every Christmas, every Easter, and always wrote to say how proud she was of me for my various achievements at uni, or in Guides. Molly fell out with one of her daughters some time ago, and one of the last times I saw her she told me that she considered me and Patrick to be her grandchildren as well. I was honored to be thought of that way, and she's always been considered special to me and Patrick.

I didn't see her enough, I didn't ring her enough, I didn't write enough. I'll always regret that and I'll miss her very much.