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Whilst manning our Hundy Mundy Wood natural burials stand at last year’s Border Union Show, I was told more than once about funerals at Morningside Crematorium in Edinburgh (which has more than one chapel) where people have sat through an entire service in the wrong chapel because they hadn’t realised their mistake before the service was underway and were too shy to interrupt.
(Doesn’t happen at a natural burial ground…)
Doesn’t happen at a good funeral anywhere; one reason a tutor of mine gave for announcing the name of the person who died in the first sentence was to give a chance for those on the wrong platform time to shuffle out quietly and catch the right train.
It’s rather lovely when it happens, in my experience. I’m a great believer in wonky moments at funerals. Seamless is soulless.
I’m with Harold and Maud, up for a stranger’s funeral, but wouldn’t want to miss the one I was aiming for . . .
But hang on, everyone’s missing the point here. These guys knew the dead man, but ‘the family’ wotted not of them, which was why ‘la famille’ thought it was so darn nice of them to come.
You’re right, that was a tangent.
Actually, I think the beauty of the perspective expressed in the quotation is that it recognises the autonomy of folks. That the family didn’t ‘own’ their dad. And that people can attend a funeral in many ways.