Aunt Jo's Funeral

The funeral was on Friday the 16th November, at 11 a.m. at a Catholic Church in Chelsea.  It was a full mass, which I hadn't expected. It took me back to my Catholic childhood, in spite of the changes.  The mass was of course in Latin when I was young.

The priest conducting had come out of retirement to do so - and made a touchingly careful and thoughtful job of it all - assisted only by a lady in black, who seemed to do a little of what altar boys used to do.   We were a small congregation - 19 I think - but the singing was beautiful.  Someone, somewhere in the back of the church had a beautiful voice.

Those who were Catholics took communion, and I noted that Catholics still only take the bread, not the wine.  As I said it took me back, in ways that were both nostalgic and painful, to my childhood, to the times when Jo was our glamorous London aunt and my sisters and I were Catholic Convent schoolgirls.  None of us are Catholics now. 

Later when the Captain and I were young marrieds, living in London, she and Paul became our good friends.  And we kept in touch through our expat years. Jo became extra precious when my parents died- a thread connecting me to them.

Yet I can't be sad that the painful struggle with old age is over.  I already know something of how difficult it is.  Jo was always stoical and dignified and fun - the very opposite of a Snowflake.  And I'm glad there is no more struggling for her.  But its sad how you lose people, one by one.

So glad we got to the funeral though. And Jeremy and Paddy provided a splendid lunch afterwards - at a Chelsea pub only a short walk away - The Cross Keys.   We had great bar snacks/tapas, including my first taste of truffle - on a brie and truffle toast - mmmmm.  I have always wanted to try truffle. Thank you Aunt Jo, Jeremy and Paddy. It was delicious.   And I would be eating it now only our shops here don't run to truffles - much to the Captain's relief (given the price they must be).

And I met some very interesting people, including an Academic who is the Expert on the poet Swinburne. He was just off to give a talk in Paris - at the Sorbonne presumably.

I don't think that many people read Swinburne now, but one of my longtime favourite poems is one of his: "A Forsaken Garden".
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45287/a-forsaken-garden

The power of words to reach the heart...  this always makes me think of my young parents, in Cornwall, newly engaged... 

Oh, and on a different note, I asked if he knew of the Beachcomber parody of Swinburne's "Dolores".  He didn't!  But really liked it, and laughed and laughed.  (I could remember it as it is only 2 lines, but it means nothing unless you have read the poem.)

I asked if he would use it in his next lecture. He said he would.  I hope he will.

And I was able to give a small witness - about the reason why Jehovah's Witnesses do not take blood transfusions.

I have never been to a funeral/memorial like it before. It was exceptional, like my aunt.  And I hope so much that we will see her again, when the time comes.