She says she'll divorce him if he brings in the clowns. And there’s no way she’ll weep while a stand-up comedian tells graveside jokes. And absolutely forget the slapstick. But he’s heard how she laughs with other men, and that’s all he wants. For her to remember him, and giggle.
No drums slow beating. No clocks stopped, No tears or sighs or ‘he’ll be missed’ and ‘he was such a good man’. But let there be flowers. Lots of flowers. Bring them fresh-picked from your gardens. Conrad had hay fever you see, and could not enjoy them when he lived.
ReplyDeleteThe officiating minister wore baggy trousers. Shoes impossibly large. A painted smile, a red nose and orange hair that was not his own. In the lapel of his jacket a flower, squirting water. He cried through the ‘in memoriam’, but he was laughing too. I couldn’t tell which was real.
ReplyDeleteLove the new look, Sarah!
ReplyDeleteHe was such a funny man. He wasn't always. Quite miserable at first. But the money made up for it. She thought he was trying to make her happy. The quips tumbled from his lips like bubbles from a champagne fountain. She died laughing. He went back to being serious.
ReplyDeleteI always remember a writing exercise which involved 'laughing at a funeral'. Your responses, D and Kathryn, remind me how many mixed emotions that raised in the writing.
ReplyDeleteAnd thanks for the comment about the look. Susannah did it for me, I'm very chuffed!
Business had been slow for months. Times were tough, people held on to everything. And these medical advances didn’t help either. If he didn’t do something quick, he’d never hear the end of it. ‘Been in the family for years’, she said. He had to give it one last shot.
ReplyDeleteOoo Jo, that's not going to end well! Lovely.
ReplyDelete