Time to rest...

I recently had the honor of attending the funeral of our dear old neighbor Jess. Jess was in his late 70s, a right ornery old cuss with family, loved by most others in the community. A true "Black Country chap". It was not my first funeral in England, but was the most traditional in most respects. Not as traditional as some have been, and still are...no horse drawn hearse...but more traditional than I know. Yet, I was not family. Nonetheless, I felt it was a calming experience for all in attendance. Many of you may have attended such occasions, but for all of my years, I had not.

A large hearse arrived on our street, full of windows and the casket in full view. All the attendees stood along the street to watch it pull up in front of the family home. A young woman emerged in a smart black suitdress complete with cane, hair pulled into a ponytail with a top hat on. She approached the door, removing her hat, knocked on the door and escorted Jess' wife June to a limosine behind the hearse.The male staff then removed what seemed like 20 or better bunches of flowers that were placed on the casket or tied down to the top of the car upon a rack. A few were the letters...Dad...Uncle and others. The immediate family rides in the limo and others follow in cars. The procession went a mile or two down a busy street midweek.
The graveyard had a small hall that seated very few...many of us stood...not a problem. Cat Stevens "Father and Son" piped in outside and in as we entered. Who knew he was a fan? The minister was a young man (40 tops) with spiked hair and piercings. He oversees the "church" near our home. He and his wife have a youth group for teens several nights a week...this country needs more like him. He stated a few words, those from family and his own, then a prayer. Short and appropriate. "How Can I Tell You", another Cat Stevens song playing as we exited the building.

We went to the grave and he was laid to rest. A very lovely tribute to a life. Even the gathering after was very understated and pleasant. Rest easy Jess.

Lately, I have noticed that motorcycle funerals are quite popular here. The English love their motorcycles as much, if not more than Americans. I am sure that they have been done many times over in the states, but I had never seen a bike procession or least of all a bike hearse before. Fitting for those who spend most or all of their time on 2 wheels rather than 4.