Last week I travelled to Staffordshire where I attended a funeral. I had met Uncle Lewis a couple of times in my life, both times very briefly. I knew almost nothing about this man but had the impression he'd been quite naughty in his time and was intrigued to hear what the memorial tribute would reveal about him.
Uncle Lewis had arranged the disposal of his body with the Co-op, they let us know that his body was at the local store should anyone wish to go and visit him.
Lewis's eldest nephew arranged the memorial service which was held in the boardroom of the assisted living complex where he had spent the last few years of his life. Guests were invited to get themselves a nice cup of tea and take a seat around the conference table. Several care staff were in attendance and a 'Room Safety Officer' who made sure that no more than 15 people were in the room, Lewis had had several domino chums and was popular with staff, I was there with some of my cousins and we soon exceeded the allowed number, latecomers had to peer in through the slightly opened glass doors.
The celebrant was a woman with a broad midlands accent, red lipstick and eyes sharply accented with black wings that pointed straight up to her eyebrows, she had discovered little about Lewis beyond a childhood near-drowning, some senior dominoes games and the fact that he liked to make his own bed. There was vague mention of travel and one precious memory offered by someone
he liked animals, he got butted in the back by a ram once and banged his face
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