Stories and a funeral

Zebra at Linton Zoo

I mentioned to Alan (Ann's cousin who lives in Portugal) that I had now finished my short story, called Liberty Jack, following a second dream that gave me the conclusion, and we started talking about some of the stories I have written. Only one has been published, titled The Fairway, which won a literature prize, and was set on a golf course in South Africa. Alan, who has an unlimited fund of anecdotes, immediately launched into his own tale of a golfing incident in South Africa.

He was playing on one of the Durban links and told to beware of the four zebras. During the round, he knocked his ball into a bunker on the third, but when they went up to it, one of the zebras was lying down in the bunker, covering most of his ball. "Can I declare a lost ball?" asked Alan.

"No - you must address the ball where it lies!" his partner insisted.

Talking afterwards of our wine-and-cheese evening on Monday for Alan and a number of friends and neighbours, Ann and I realised that as we have aged, everyone at that evening, save Edwin, had serious problems in their lives of one sort or another. One neighbour who did not come was David, the husband of Janet Newton who died a few weeks ago, and whom we had not seen for some time since the severe progression of her Alzheimer's. Alan left on Wednesday, taken to the station by Edwin as her funeral was at mid-day.

This was held in Hundon village church and we hoped for an inconspicuous seat near the back. Ann even remembered to leave her phone at home, as her ring tone is Annie's Song, which she did not want blaring out in church. Although a good fifteen minutes early, it was already full and we were forced onto a row near the front. Mary-Ann used to baby sit for one of their grandchildren, now a grown woman, and she and her sister sang a remarkable duet called To Where You Are, in perfect, clear soprano voices. The event was extremely moving. The children also read moving testimonials to their mother, who had been given the devastating news that their father, her first husband, had suddenly died in a car crash when they were young. She married David soon afterwards, and the children evidently loved him. He gave a moving address about how he had had to care for her in the later years of total dependency, and how it reminded him of his mother's death when he had had to dress and clean her too. Then the son, Dean, gave what sounded like a confessional: "Mum, you were always there for me when I needed you. I am so sorry that I was not there for you when you needed me." It left Ann and I wondering how our children might remember us when we die. Finally, as the mourners prepared to leave the aisles, we heard John Denver blaring out Annie's Song. The family had chosen it as the final piece of music for the funeral.