I had only ever attended one funeral before my own, and that was of my Great Grandma Gladys. Less of a funeral it had more similarities to ‘Noises off’. There was large amount of miscommunication, like the hearse being told the wrong church to go to, arriving just before the bride at her wedding. Half of the guests had been told that it would be more of a celebration of Gladys’ life and to wear something colourful, while the other half turned up in the traditional, sombre black. Uncle Joe decided it would be a good idea to down half a bottle of whisky and loudly proclaim that it was all his brother’s wife’s fault, and that he’d never seen such a shambles, which made it a timely moment for three vicars to show up, all planning on the leading the same service.
However, at least nobody was particularly late, whereas at my funeral it
looks as though I will be lucky to have one man and a dog to see me off! But I
am still ahead of myself, for I must tell you of how I died.