So anyway my day was like this...

(RANT WARNING, FEEL FREE TO SCROLL ON BY)

Today was the day of the funeral of the mother of my former partner. Although it's been some time since I had anything to do at all with said former guy, I did keep in touch with this wonderful lady who had become my friend. I was very fond of her.

I was invited to attend by TFG's two sisters, (also friends) and chose to show my respect by attending. All in formal dress and everything. I even arrived on time. Barely on time thanks to the vagaries of my satnav and it being a relatively newly built church, but on time.

So anyway I rock up and admittedly I am the last arrival as everybody is being seated for the service and I make my way to row 2 pew next to TFG's cousin and her husband who I know well, and TFG looks round and gives me THAT LOOK. And I am like well, somebody got out the wrong side of bed today.

At a polite distance. I am not family after all. But they were as lovely as always, despite the circumstances.

I get through an entire Roman Cathloic funeral mass. Now at this point I should say that the dearly departed was a member of the Latin Mass Society, so I'm feverishly trying to recall the call and response nature of the Latin mass from my long lapsed Catholicism. With some measure of success.I supppose it becomes second nature, really.I even received Holy Communion as would have been the wish of my friend.

Cue more laser eyes from TFG. Who chose not to receive Holy Communion. Disrespectful.

As an aside, non Catholics at a Catholic Mass may receive a blessing from the priest instead of Communion, and a significant number chose to receive the blessing as a mark of respect. Lump in throat moment.

Much incense and standing up/ sitting back down/ standing back up later (it's the Catholic way, ok?)

Aside 2: It's always amusing when the Catholic version of the Lord's Prayer is followed, which omits much of the Protestant Prayer towards the end)

So then it's time to remove the vestment from the casket and carry it in grace to the funeral carriage.Now, the cemetary is a ten minute walk from the church. We sure had some exercise today. it's ok for the priest, telling us to stand up and sit down all the time, at least he gets a bite to eat and a couple of glasses of wine.

So we are walking solemnly behind the carriage and I am walking in company with one of the sisters, and we catch up with TFG and I am like, hmmm, well... "I am truly sorry for your loss". Sister number two, who has a disability, followed by car and chose not to attend the internment as she felt (and looked) physically exhausted. I went out of my way to spend some time with her. More dirty looks from TFG.

looks at me like a piece of shit. Well, you know, I made the effort.

So we all go back to the house afterwards and TFG, who has the only set of keys, has decided to stop off on the way back for "refreshments" with his buddies, leaving us all outside in 85 degree heat in our black formal wear. Not fun.

I had only planned to stay thirty minutes out of respect and politeness, and when it was time for me to leave I once again swallowed my pride, approached TFG and said I am truly sorry for your loss, and I hope you will be ok.

Not even an acknowledgement.