Ketih's Father's funeral was yesterday. I read that poem, the one I think everyone reads at funerals - Do not Weep by my Grave by anonymous. I wanted to read the Billy Collin's poem, 'The Dead' but it was vetoed by Keith. Which was probably a wise decision on his part. The other poem is far more traditional and maybe less freaky. I like the idea of the dead rowing through heaven in glass bottomed boats but that's just me.
Keith's ex-wife turned up. They've been separated for seven years. She didn't have any kind of continuing relationship with his dad after the marriage broke up. Keith specifically asked her not to come, very politely, I might add. She came anyway. What would Emily Post say?
There was a funny side - at the wake, at one stage, Keith was flanked by his wives. An uncomfortable position for any man to be in.
I have a sore throat. Probably some stern god punishing me for swallowing all those bad thoughts.
Back to rationalising my bookcases.
A blog where I talk about the reading, writing, post the Tuesday Poem and, sometimes, show some knitting.
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