A fitting ceremony

Well, what a weekend. Along with the rest of the family I spent the weekend grappling with the extreme sadness of Gran Reid passing away whilst the funeral was organised and prepared for. The service was held yesterday in St. Vincent's Church, Gran's own parish with a congregation that Gran probably would not have believed. We ran out of orders of service with the church only half full as the people paying respect kept on coming. My cousin James even suggested we ask the priest if he had a photocopier handy in order to spontaneously create more leaflets. I suspected we were grasping at straws though and Kenny, James and myself had to stand at the door a little dumbstruck as more mourners filtered through the doors, some looking a little disgruntled at not receiving a leaflet. Inside the church some people ended up having to sit in the cry chapel, situated up the right hand side of the usual pews, in the bright airy building. The service was beautiful with the organ belting out the tunes to the lovely voices of the church choir as we said goodbye to Gran, making our way to the Philipshill cemetary after church to lay her to rest alongside Granpa Reid. A fitting ceremony to a great woman.
Back at work today I couldn't help but feel depressed not only at the loss of my last Grand parent but at the prospect of having to go back into work as if nothing had changed. Everybody milling about their usual business. Giving orders, moaning on the phone to sales reps, laughing and joking as if nothing had ever happened. Ignorance must be bliss.