Sam – We always say a good funeral is better than a wedding any day. Well, when the person is old that is and you can celebrate their long life.

In my brother in law’s neck of the woods the families still dig the graves. Four men, two shovels and a bottle of whiskey. At his father’s, they made the mistake of tackling the bottle first. A Bobcat mini-digger had to be hired the morning of the burial to straighten and widen the grave.

Perhaps I should have included that bit and the next bit on the post proper but here it is now: The undertaker was trailing a new contraption. The druid had a remote switch which set pulleys in motion to lower the coffin. No-one knew of this and as the box began to slowly drop, women screamed and men rushed forward and pulled it back up. There was a break in proceedings while the coffin was put to one side and machine reset which ruined the solemnity of the whole thing.

A gem of a post though. We do the “representing the family” thing too up our way. My dad is related to half the island and knows the other half too so has a funeral just about every other month if not more. In a heavy funeral season (winter) he hardly has to eat at home, with all the wakes and funeral teas and such.

If it’s a country funeral the immediate male relatives both dig and fill in the grave afterwards. If there aren’t enough male relatives, friends and extended family are recruited. My dad was much prized for that because he was a landscape gardener and handy with a spade. I’m not kidding. He usually got sandwiches and a wee nip after that too.

Medbh – Wastrel. Wonderful word. Yes, there’s always one, as they say in the Tayto ad. And don’t forget the professional attendee – there’s one who turns up to all of our families’ (both sides). She’d be a cousin of a cousin of a cousin of a grandaunt’s second husband or something equally obscure. We only know her first name.

I really loved this post by the way. The best I’ve read in a long while!