I'm driving the bus...

I have just returned from a funeral. A 13 year old in apparent perfect health suddenly stopped living.

As a devout athiest, Catholic ceremonies rarely appeal to me. This ceremony however, was different - religion stayed in the background as memories and annecdotes took the limelight. Instead of Prayers of the Faithful, six of his friends spoke of their favourite memories and the things they'd do for "divilment". Their words came from the heart - there was no editing to make them more appropriate for the stiff church environment. Colloquial phrases like "wrecking me head" and "fancy the arse off her" were used with ease and without a second thought. Instead of saying Amen they each finished with a farewell - "see ya mate". There wasn't a dry eye in the house.

The priest celebrating the mass was African - he did a wonderful job. Celebrating his short life but consoling the family. At one point he sang "Bring Him Home" from Les Mis. The lyrics were perfect for the occasion - adding to an already steady stream of tears. And what a voice - he sang without the aid of a mic, his steady, clear voice filling the church with ease....

... and all the while, the only thing I could think as he was singing was "I'd say he does a great 'Old Man River'". (Now that I think about it 'Mammy' would be a good one too.)

Probably a good job I don't believe in Heaven or Hell because I think I know which one I would be destined for after that.