Sunday, March 1, 2009

GRAVE MISGIVINGS

Watching a re-run of the popular TV show Mother & Son featuring Garry McDonald and the late Ruth Cracknell, Rafferty laughs as much as he's done on previous viewings of the famous grave-side episode in which Maggie Bear bends over the grave and the bag of oranges she's brought with her all spill out and onto the top of her brother's coffin. A veteran of many gravesides himself, Rafferty thinks it's hilarious. At the same time he's grateful nothing of that nature has ever happened at any of his funerals! Nor can he remember any real funeral that was in the slightest funny. Though odd things did happen sometimes, as he thinks back. None of them merit a TV screen, but they've had their moments; gut-wrenching, embarrassing, poignant, like when....

As he's done his best to care for her and her young daughter as he's cared for their husband and father before he's died, Rafferty is more than a little uneasy about the depth of Mrs.Y's grief. Come the day of the funeral, as he stands by the grave taking the service for her husband, she's been very quiet, seemingly withdrawn, but now that it's almost time to lower the coffin, he's very aware of Mrs.Y becoming visibly distraught, growing agitated, and now shrieking in her grief and despair. When at last the coffin is lowered, as Rafferty finishes the words of committal, Mrs.Y moves closer to the edge of the grave and stands looking down. Rafferty is gripped by a strong feeling of unease. She's going to jump! Rafferty manages to catch the eye of the funeral director, who somehow reads his mind. Just as Mrs.Y does indeed begin to jump, the funeral director lunges from one side as Rafferty lunges from the other. Together they hold her, wailing her heart out, but tightly and safely, till a relative comes forward and leads her further back from the grave as Rafferty finishes the service. Mrs. Y refuses the offer of professional help, and when Rafferty leaves that parish several months later, she's still not ready to receive it yet. He never sees either her or her daughter again, but sometimes, when he can feel tension at a graveside, he still wonders about them and what very nearly happens that day.

In a city where the practice has grown up of tacking a 'remembrance' of the deceased specific to a club, lodge, etc they've belonged to onto the end of the main service, religious or otherwise, Rafferty regularly has qualms about the quality of some of these add-ons. Not so much the words used, but that an office-bearer of the organisation concerned could be thrust into the frontline ill equipped to do justice to what's expected of him or her. 'Unaccustomed as I am to public speaking' kind of thing, although most of them are used to speaking publicly in their organisation. It's just that funerals are in a different league. On one of these occasions, he remembers wishing the ground would swallow him up like it's just done for the deceased in his coffin, when, having completed the religious service, he stands back so the representative of an organisation the deceased has belonged to can come up and have his say. The poor chap looks more than a little uncomfortable at being thrust into this spotlight and having to play this role. As he begins his organisation's particular form of remembrance, and clearly flustered, he shuffles his papers, then, after a pause, turns to the grieving widow, and asks her in a loud voice, "What was his name?" The silence that follows is briefly deafening, and Rafferty isn't sure whether to feel more for the widow, the representative of the organisation, or the man who's already forgotten by it; a man without a name!

On one occasion, Rafferty, having just finished a burial, and walking back to his car, is surprised to see a funeral director he knows well cutting across between graves, obviously trying to head him off. When he does, he asks Rafferty if he'd be prepared to stay on and substitute for a colleague who, for what later turns out to be reason of sudden and serious illness in his family, fails to show to take a funeral as arranged. Having checked with the deceased's family that this is all right, and finding they're just grateful someone's going to help out, Rafferty walks with them across to where a small group of mourners has gatheredby a grave. There's not been time to receive any 'briefing' from the family, or cover any of the usual ground, go through any of the usual preliminaries. All Rafferty knows is the name of the deceased, an elderly woman. The form of the service is all right, because it's set, but when he comes to the point where it's usual for a eulogy to be given, Rafferty has to do some quick thinking. He explains to them all that because of the circumstances, he can't give the usual kind of eulogy, but that it would seem respectful for somebody to speak about her at this point. He asks if any of the family would like to speak about the deceased. All he gets is head shakes and dead silence. Would any of her friends like to speak? Again, silence! No-one has expected to be asked to do this kind of thing. Determined that the dead woman still deserves to have something said about her life, he resorts to a kind of rhetorical question: If I were to ask you to tell me about Z, what would you tell me? Family and friends remain silent, but from the other side of the grave an elderly woman responds immediately. "She was a dear old soul...a lovely person...she was a good friend to a lot of us here"....and she's off and away! Realising she's not going to stop after her first few sentences, Raff begins to wonder what he's unleashed! It's some minutes before Raff can gently break in, thank her for her kind words about Z, and suggest they've heard enough now! The funeral director, one whom Rafferty knows well and is always happy to see 'on the job' gives him a grin, and, making sure no-one else can see, mouths, "Serves you right!"

As happens once in awhile, one day Rafferty has to take a 'public funeral'. What once would have been called a pauper's funeral. Apart from Rafferty himself, the funeral director and a couple of his men, and a young grave-digger standing closer-by than he would normally stand as there is no-one whose susceptibilities he might offend by remaining so close, there is no one else. No family has appeared - no-one knows if he has a family. None has come forward. No friends, either. Neither are there any flowers. Rafferty takes the service exactly as usual. Though some might want to add 'trimmings' according to their taste and pocket, the actual rites remain the same. There are no first and second class funeral rites dependent on the circumstances of the deceased. When it's time for the eulogy, Rafferty tells briefly of the very little known about the man they're burying. When the service ends, and Rafferty and the funeral directors are moving from the grave, the young grave-digger comes quietly up to Rafferty and says to him, "Don't worry, Father. I'll find a flower and put it on him". Rafferty goes home deeply moved! Deeply heartened!