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shewhomustToday we attended the funeral of my cousin Edmund: here is a tribute to him from a source which is not one of my usual reference points. But my earliest memories of Edmund were football related. When I was quite a small child, he came (more than once, I think) to stay with my family in Leytonstone, because Sunderland were playing Leyton Orient. He supported Sunderland because his father had, and retained that family allegiance, as did his brothers. These are the cousins I have been privileged to join for a post-match dinner on their visits to Sunderland, a more-or-less annual pilgrimage.
The last time I saw Edmund was at his brother's funeral this summer, and we said it'll be football season soon; next time we meet won't be for a funeral. So it goes.
There were a lot of people there, and I still don't know who most of them were. A lot of men in smart suits, who I'm guessing were either football- or business- acquaintances. Relations of Edmund's wife (whom I scarcely know, and still feel bad that I didn't get to speak to - though I think she must have chosen to withdraw). Not many actual cousins (but then, there are not many of us left) but several (looks it up) cousins once removed, the children of my cousins. Asboybear pointed out, this "younger generation" may be younger, but they are by now grown up in their own right. The younger cousin to whom we were speaking agreed: "I'm a grandmother now!"
I had two separate conversations which went I'm sorry we weren't able to be at your father / wife's funeral. Which was not much fun, but I'm glad to have had a chance to say it. And some happier conversations: we are the people who remember each other's parents, and sharing those memories is a rare joy.
There was also an interesting drive between the crematorium and the reception:durham_rambler set the satnav for shortest route, and it took us through hollow lanes and forests and past big beautiful houses.
So as funerals go, it brought its compensations. But they don't, of course, compensate.
The last time I saw Edmund was at his brother's funeral this summer, and we said it'll be football season soon; next time we meet won't be for a funeral. So it goes.
There were a lot of people there, and I still don't know who most of them were. A lot of men in smart suits, who I'm guessing were either football- or business- acquaintances. Relations of Edmund's wife (whom I scarcely know, and still feel bad that I didn't get to speak to - though I think she must have chosen to withdraw). Not many actual cousins (but then, there are not many of us left) but several (looks it up) cousins once removed, the children of my cousins. As
boybear pointed out, this "younger generation" may be younger, but they are by now grown up in their own right. The younger cousin to whom we were speaking agreed: "I'm a grandmother now!"I had two separate conversations which went I'm sorry we weren't able to be at your father / wife's funeral. Which was not much fun, but I'm glad to have had a chance to say it. And some happier conversations: we are the people who remember each other's parents, and sharing those memories is a rare joy.
There was also an interesting drive between the crematorium and the reception:
durham_rambler set the satnav for shortest route, and it took us through hollow lanes and forests and past big beautiful houses. So as funerals go, it brought its compensations. But they don't, of course, compensate.
