Friday, November 12, 2010

Another Day, Another Funeral

This time it was good friend's very old mother, in her nineties. Our friend kindly sent lovely flowers when R's Mother died and he turned up unbidden at Step Father's funeral. I certainly would not have taken a day off work to attend, but since the funeral fell on my day off, I decided to go. Once R realised the funeral was near his workplace, then he decided to go too and took the afternoon off.

We did not want to end up with two cars and have to drive home separately so I caught the train to Blackburn where R picked me up. I was worried about missing the train, I do cut things finely at times but I was at Flinders Street Station in plenty of time and caught an earlier train than I intended. It was an interesting enough trip, one I have made a few times before. Even in the middle of the day, there were few vacant seats.

As I was early, I decided to get off at Box Hill for a squiz at what has been happening there. Stuff all from what I could see. There were many Asian shoppers and via my blog someone told me about the escalator problem there whereby many Asian people stand on the right of the escalator and prevent anyone walking. Yep, they weren't wrong about that. How about a few signs Metro?

I went to the electric bank to extract some money and wished I had have been there a month or so ago when this wisteria would have been in full bloom.

But really the mall part looked quite shabby and run down.

Back on the train to Blackburn and R arrived a few minutes after I did. Well done Metro. Clockwork. We had time to have some lunch first and ummed and ahhhed over where to have it. We ended up having something from a chain store bakery. We sat outside in the heat because it was marginally cooler than sitting inside in the heat.

Onward to the funeral venue. Damn, look there is a pub next door with meals, pokies, outdoor decking, air conditioning. We were a bit early still so R availed himself with coffee and I treated myself to a refreshing gin and tonic.

The funeral was a pretty dry eyed affair. Our friend's mother was suffering from dementia and her death was no surprise to anyone, although up until a few weeks ago, she had been living at home. We had never met our friend's parents, only our friend's sister in law and brother. Luckily three other gay guys were there to support our friend and we knew them, so we had someone to chat to. Our friend's partner is a Fijian Indian and not a pale skinned guy and he really stood out. I guess most people there knew who he was. It must be very hard to go to things like that when you know how much you stand out.

The celebrant or whatever he was was a dryish middle class older white male. Professional, but so so boring compared to the last few funerals I have been to where the celebrants were younger woman.

We drove home using the East Link tunnel and the Eastern Freeway. We gave a lift to a retired priest friend of our friend and dropped him at Victoria Street where he could catch a tram into town. A forty minute funeral and maybe thirty minute coffee and nibbly things seem to take the whole day.


  1. The most important thing was... you [and R] were there to show support.

  2. And I am sure he appreciated it Peter.


Democracy is all very well, but why give it to the people? - Audrey Forbes-Hamilton.