And so the day finally dawned yesterday, after a wait of four and half weeks, for the final rites to be said in Meg’s funeral. In some ways, it seems an incredibly long period of time since Meg left us but in other ways, the time has absolutely flown by. The day was to be very much the day of two halves as it were, with the solemnity (I trust) of a Catholic Mass which Meg absolutely wanted, to be followed after the committal at the crematorium by the jollier afternoon tea party where I expect the mood to be so much lighter in tone. I am very conscious that so many people will be having to make long journeys of which the greatest is our dear friend from Madrid who again, as at the time of Meg’s death, is making the journey to be by Meg’s side. The eulogy which is to be delivered in the five minute slot allocated to it has been rehearsed for countless times (to improve the intonation, emphasis, breathing etc.) Two very much last minute items are going to be brought along this morning to adorn Meg’s coffin if the undertakers are in agreement. The first is the absolutely stunning photo of Meg taken as a staff photo taken in about 1980 when she would have been about 33 years of age (before her birthday in October later in the year) I have pressed into use a frame which had been used for our Spanish god-daughter as a young girl but now used for Meg. The other artefact will be three or four deep red roses freshly harvested on the day of Meg’s funeral from our own back garden and with an accompanying card. On a similar theme, Meg and I celebrated our 40th wedding anniversary in the Hotel Hesperia in Santiago de Compestela, Northern Spain. On the day of the celebrations, Meg and I evidently turned up in plenty of time to make sure that all of the preparations had been correctly done and we went to inspect the room where our meal was to be held. The whole room was decorated with a most wonderful the kinds of flowers that would typically grace an English garden. One of the waitresses who we knew particularly well could not attend on the day of our celebrations but had picked a whole selection of flowers from her own, English style garden and, at her own expense and time used these to decorate the whole of the room where the meal was to be held. As it happens, I remember this day particularly well and it stands out in my memory. We had arranged with the hotel management that we would have a little welcome gathering in a reception room adjacent to our dining room where we were to make some introductory speeches. As I remember, Meg did the welcoming part in Spanish whilst I did a parallel thing in English as we had a mixture of both Spanish family/friends and some of my own family who had made the journey to Santiago to help us celebrate. The hotel management had been asked to supply a few ‘entrantes’ or starter bits to whet the appetite but this was so extensive and abundant that my English family thought that that this was to be the main repast of the day instead of just a starter. Then another highlight of the day was the visit about two thirds of the way through the meal of what are called the ‘Tunas Universitarias’ These are music students, often post graduates who are attired in mediaeval garb and come along to play (with an accompanying guitars, lute, tambur) and all with fine singing voices. They then perform the kinds of Spanish songs that all Spanish people of whatever class or generation will know well and they all join heartily in the singing. One such song is ‘Cielito Lindo’ meaning ‘sweetheart’ and is a popular Mexican folk song often known as the ‘Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay song’. It’s a classic melody with lyrics about love and beauty. The song’s refrain, ‘Ay, ay, ay, ay! Canta y no llores,’ is widely recognised, encouraging people to sing instead of to cry. The song has a rich history and is often performed by various artists , including André Rieu and in Mexico, where it is often associated with celebrations and festivals. If this song were to be played to an English audience (don’t tempt me) the tune would probably be known as the song recorded by Alma Cogan in 1957 whose English title was ‘You, Me and Us – We are my favourite people’
So we turned up for the funeral service scheduled to start at 12.00 but we were there 50 minutes beforehand. As often happens on these occasions, those who had travelled the furthest (i.e. from Yorkshire, Hampshire) actually arrived before anybody else but the courtyard before the church soon filled up with family, neighbours, three of the young care workers who cared for Meg so brilliantly and even two of the Waitrose staff and an Admiral nurse with a total congregation of about 50. When the coffin arrived, there was a stunning display adorning the coffin of deep red roses much bigger and better than I could possibly have imagined. In fact the officiating priest had to ask early in the Mass that the roses be removed in order to accommodate a bible and a crucifix to be placed on the coffin. The service was almost flawless and the singing superb particularly from the husband of the Eucharistic minister. I managed to get through the Euology without bursting into tears and went off script a little by adding to the end ‘And so Meg – Sunshine – hasta la vista’ and and the congregation responded with a ripple of applause. The service was absolutely everything that Meg could have possibly wished for and I thought it was superb – in fact the best funeral I have ever attended. Our choices of music seemed to be appreciated by the congregation as well. Then we had to journey to the crematorium which was a little tortuous because some of the nearby roads were blocked off but the committal at the crematorium was simple, dignified and beautiful in its own way. It had had a humorous moment in it as well because upon leaving I bent to kiss Meg’s coffin and put my hand upon it whereupon it moved several inches on a transport belt. It looked as though I was giving Meg a final shove into the future and we all saw the funny side of this.
The afternoon proceedings were joyous. I gave my account of numerous humorous incidents from Meg’s life which I hoped nobody had heard before. After a glass of champagne, three very moving tributes followed which was just about the right number – one from our ex Erasmus student and life long friend who had flown in from Madrid, one from a University of Winchester colleague and the final one from a De Montfort university colleague and friend who came to visit Meg when she forced to retire. This was followed by yet another toast in champagne after which people started to drift away but I stayed on drinking champagne and talking with ex-colleagues who were staying overnight in the hotel and our Madrid friend. We did this until the restaurant had nearly closed and then six of us went off to have a meal and more animated conversation. Although it sounds a very strange thing to say, it was one of the happiest days of my life. Meg either would be/is thrilled with every part of the day and one could not have wished for a more perfect day. Although there must have been some tears, I think there were tears of happiness as much as sorrow. My thoughts about the final farewells to Meg were that it was a most wonderful and fitting tribute at the end of her life and I can only look back on it with the most wonderful memories of Meg and the funeral day itself.