|We got home on Friday and today I’m gradually returning to the land of the living. It all seemed to catch up with me yesterday, but today I’m feeling fairly funky. I hope you are all well. A friend complained of e-mail bouncing from my address, so if you've experienced this I'm sorry, I have no idea what went wrong there.|
The funeral went well. The priest gave Andrew the theological status of a child, which means he goes straight to heaven, no questions asked. There was a veritable nebula of incense, my sister sang Panis Angelicus and In Paradisum and a solemn time was had by all.
And it was good to see all my family. The Kelly family I always feel quite comfortable around. My maternal family are more problematic. For example, we visited my uncle, aunt and young cousin. I haven’t seen them in at least a year. My folks who came with us aren’t exactly popping in all the time since they are a full hour’s drive away. Now granted we were only there an hour or so because we were on our way to visit my Granny in hospital, but when we arrived the television was on and remained so throughout our visit despite the fact that nobody was watching it. With my fatigue, I am quite sensitive with this stuff; it’s hard enough following one conversation, especially in strong Suffolk accents, let alone when you’ve got all sorts of other noise coming at you from a different direction. And yet I never feel able to ask them to turn the bloody thing off.
Anyway, my Granny did very well at the funeral. There was no anticipation that she would have made it to the funeral and to the meal afterwards, but she did and given how she’s been of late I know it must have been more than adrenaline; she must be getting better at last, which is just wonderful. She is so precious to everyone.
I learnt that my great grandmother Hilda was named after St. Hilda who founded Whitby Abbey, which is just odd. The Kellys all hail from Yorkshire and the remaining Northern contingent have sited my living in Whitby as a return to my roots, though that didn’t even vaguely occur to me when I moved here. Mind you, I have lots of roots if I think about it. There’s Irish blood and gypsy too and I’m not sure whether the Kelly is an Irish Kelly or a Scots Kelly. The gypsy bit means that there are people in Gujarat, India who may share some of my genes.
My cousin Danny, who is my age within about a week, has my Granddad’s laugh.
Apart from the obvious downer, we had a good time in Suffolk. I hardly saw a thing of my Dad, but we had lots of good times with Mum. Did some shopping, bought some knickers. Was there anything else you wanted to know?
Oh, in Bury St Edmunds park (the Abbey Gardens) we saw the world’s only internet bench. They have an ordinary wooden bench with modem sockets on the arms. Also in the Gardens was the tamest and fattest squirrel you ever met. I’m sure we saw other weird and wonderful things but I can’t recall them just now.
Labels: General Nonsense